Malcolm Of The Rings
by HiBob
Summary: LOTR/MITM Malcolm awakens in Mirkwood Forest and quickly releases he is in trouble, because Reese and Dewey are with him. Middle Earth will never be the same again.
1. Introduction

MALCOLM OF THE RINGS

A.K.A.

LORD IN THE MIDDLE

  


inflicted by HiBob

  


This is the disclaimer. It in it I make claims but they are claims about what is not. For example, I do not own the characters or places of the Lord of the Rings. (See how it works.) As another example, I do not own the characters or places of Malcolm in the Middle. If you don't believe me ask Linwood Boomer. Also, I should note that I do not own the rights to any of the parodies and sketches of Monty Python. Finally, I should mention that the Unseen University (see Terry Prachett) does not make an appearance in this story. For those of you who think I am serious I should point out that it is a pun. Unseen? Appearance? Never mind. (No one ever gets that joke.)

  


INTRODUCTION

This story is a crossover between two disparate sources: The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien and the Fox TV show Malcolm in the Middle. Despite the wide popularity of both the book (and movie) and the show, many people are not really familiar with the characters. This introduction is for them.

*

The list of characters in the Lord of the Rings is large and varied, consisting of Men, Elves, Hobbits, Ents, Orcs, Dark Riders and one dwarf. Apparently all of the remaining dwarves were on vacation at that time and were unable to be part of the story.

Frodo Baggins is the main character in the book. He is a hobbit and his task is to try to destroy the One Ring. He is a stalwart character but a bit funny in the head. After all, he is traveling to the heart of darkness and he takes as his sole companion, his gardener.

Samwise Gamgee is the gardener. He is a likable hobbit with a strange rope fixation.

Merry and Pippin are their good friends, fun loving hobbits of no fixed income. Not to say that they are bad people, but they do have a reputation among the local farmers.

Strider is the heroic figure of the story. He begins the tale as a vagabond in a tavern, and through the course of one thousand pages he works hard to improve his lot and ends up as king of the entire world. Horatio Alger would have been proud. (In the UK read Benjamin Disraeli.)

Boromir is the tragic figure. He was probably the snotty little rich kid when he was growing up. He is vain and shallow, but he has a really great death scene.

Legolas is an elf. He comes along mostly to visit all of his relatives.

Gimli is the dwarf. The only dwarf. Other dwarves are mentioned but it is mostly mentioned that they are dead. No other dwarves make an appearance long enough to be given a name.

Last and not least is Gandalf the Wizard. Gandalf only appears human, but he is a great and powerful force in the world. In the first volume he is killed. Despite this setback he still manages to play an epic part in this, uh, epic.

Honorable mention goes to Elrond who owns and operates Rivendell, also known as the Last Homely House (see the prequel). It is not clear exactly what Rivendell is. Some say it is a town. Others say it is a very large house. A third group tends toward the idea of a bed and breakfast.

Also appearing is Saruman the White, a wizard gone bad. He is best known as the evil guy wannabe. He is defeated by a bunch of trees with bad attitudes.

Two minor characters also appear in the book that are mentioned in my story. Radagast the Brown is another wizard, like Gandalf and Saruman, but he spends most of his time talking to animals. It is assumed that they talk back to him. He is considered not to ight-bray in the ead- hay. Galdor the elf is the other character. He is a representative of Cirdan the Shipwright to the Council of Elrond. The book mentions that he accompanied Legolas to Rivendell but that is about it.

*

Most of the main characters receive little mention in my story for the simple fact that they are off doing what they were doing in the book. Those who can, interact with the MITM characters in a way that does not interfere with the main story. At least not too much.

*

The cast of Malcolm in the Middle is not large and varied except for Craig Feldspar, but we don't want to get into that. Malcolm is one of four boys in the family, and he is the star of the show. This is evident by the fact that his name appears in the title. He is a childhood genius who is now a teenager, making the fact that he is a genius mostly irrelevant.

His younger brother is Dewey, a quirky child with little or no known grasp on reality. He is extremely talented in certain areas but no one in his family knows, or has bothered finding out what these areas are.

Reese is the older brother. He is rude, obnoxious and self-centered. He has a keen intellect which he almost never uses. His favorite recreation is trying to get a date.

Francis is the oldest brother. He was sent away to Marlin Academy, a military school in Alabama. After two years he dropped out and fled to Alaska where he has a miserable existence. His only solace is that Eric, a friend who also dropped out of Marlin, hates their boss, Lavernia, just as much as he does.

Hal is Malcolm's father. He is obsessive, compulsive and romantically involved with his wife. When he is at home, his main thoughts are of getting rid of the kids so he can be alone with his wife.

Lois is Malcolm's mother, and she never lets him forget it. While Hal doesn't seem to be bothered by anything, Lois wants to make sure every son of hers tows the line, keeps in step, stands up straight, etc. The main result is that she yells a great deal with no tangible results.

Malcolm actually has friends, although the term is debatable. All of them are Krelboynes, and all of them lack the same thing, personality. The exception is Stevie Kenarben, who is Malcolm's age but is confined to a wheelchair and has asthma. He does have a positive outlook on life, as well as a great deal of patience. The proof of this last part is that he is friends with Malcolm.

*

In the context of this story, Malcolm is in his last year with the Krelboynes. He is looking forward to next year when he finally goes to high school. In Middle Earth, Frodo has already left the Shire, and is somewhere near Bree.

*

In the course of the show, Malcolm will frequently address the audience by speaking directly into the camera. This is reflected by placing Malcolm's comments in _italics_.

*

CHAPTERS

  


01 - Disclaimer, Introduction, Table of Contents

This is self descriptive, especially if you've already read this.

*

02 - A Meeting in the Woods

Malcolm and his brothers arrive in Middle Earth and are ushered out of Mirkwood Forest

*

03 - Rivendell

The three brothers arrive in Rivendell, cause trouble and are kicked out.

*

04 - Last Train to Bree

They arrive in Bree and are told that they cannot stay.

*

05 - Interacting with Hobbits

Everyone in the Shire assumes they will be leaving.

*

06 - Isengard

Saruman gives them the bums rush, and they are out the door before they know what hit them.

*

07 - The Rocky Road to Mordor

They are not being thrown out. They are merely being relocated to a more convenient place, but that doesn't actually happen until the next chapter.

*

08 - Holiday at Mount Doom

This chapter begins here but end in Minis Tirith where Reese, Malcolm and Dewey are forced to leave.

*

09 - Epilogue

The story ends.

*

10 - Appendix

It was removed.


	2. A Meeting in the Woods

CHAPTER TWO: A MEETING IN THE WOODS

  


Malcolm lay on his bed digesting a, well, eaten meal and tried to get interested in the book he was supposed to read. Giving up after looking at the cover for five second, he shoved the book under his pillow and reached for the phone, pressing a carefully memorized series of numbers.

"I love you, Jennifer," Malcolm said softly into the phone.

"I love you, Malcolm," a soft female voice said from the other end.

"I love you, Jennifer," Malcolm said as part of an obviously repetitious cycle.

*

"I hate this," Reese said from his own bed. "The two of you have been talking that way for almost four hours."

"Reese, this is important," Malcolm hissed at his older brother.

"But it's after midnight," Dewey whined from his own bed on the other side.

"I'll be done in a minute," Malcolm assured them.

"You'll be done now," Reese said, grabbing the cordless phone out of his brother's hand. "Look, Sarah, Malcolm will call you back tomorrow. What? You're Jennifer. I must not have been keeping up with things." Reese tossed the phone back to his brother, adding, "Too bad. She hung up. Now turn off the light so we can sleep."

_Reese is only mad because I have a girlfriend and he doesn't. Well, that's too bad for him._

Malcolm quickly pressed the number. "Jennifer, don't hang up . . . Oh, sorry, Sarah. Wrong number." Sheepishly, he dialed the correct number. "Sarah, I mean Jennifer, don't hang . . ." he said before Jennifer hung up. He laid the phone down on his bed in disgust.

"Malcolm." Dewey whined. "Please turn off the light."

"That wasn't fair," Malcolm said in an extremely annoyed voice, as he turned out the light. He didn't put the phone back because Jennifer might call. After all, she did love him. He fell asleep with the phone in his hand.

*

"Malcolm," Dewey whispered as he nervously shook his brother. "Wake up."

"What is it?" came the irritated answer as Malcolm slowly opened his eyes to adjust to the morning sun. He couldn't help noticing that his blanket was missing. "This bed is hard," he said. He looked down and noticed ground instead of his bed. "What happened?"

"We're lost," Dewey said as he began to cry.

"You're too old to cry, Dewey," Malcolm said, and Dewey stopped. "What do you mean we're lost? Where are we?" Then he stared past Dewey at the tall man with pointed ears. He was also staring at the tree the man was leaning against, which was where the bedroom door should have been. Without looking away, he hit his older brother, saying, "Reese, the house is gone."

"What?" Reese said, jumping up. "They stole our house," he shouted. Less assuredly he added, "they must have stolen the whole neighborhood." Then he smiled.

"What the hell are you smiling about," Malcolm asked in amazement, "our house is gone along with everything else."

"Exactly," Reese said with authority, "and everything else includes Mom and Dad."

"That's right," Dewey chimed in, "We can do whatever we want."

All three brothers smiled.

"We've got a couple of problems, first," Malcolm said, "We don't know where we are, we don't have any money, and we're standing in the middle of the woods in our underwear."

"I'm wearing pajamas," Dewey volunteered.

"Not for long if you don't shut up." Reese threatened, then turned back to Malcolm. "Should we panic?"

_THAT is an excellent idea._

"We'd better not. That guy is watching."

"Which one?"

Malcolm turned around to see several men watching them now. "The guy with the pointed ears."

Reese looked the men over, carefully. "They all have pointed ears."

"Cool. Vulcans," Dewey said, then turned to the closest man with his hand raised appropriately and said, "Live long and prosper."

The man smiled, bowed politely, and said, "Mae Govannon, Mellon."

"I don't think he's a Vulcan," Malcolm said, "I don't remember them using bows and arrows."

"Let's ask him," Reese said, then cautioned his brothers, "first, let's see if he understands us." He looked up and asked, "Mister, do you speak English?"

The elf thought briefly, then said, "I'm sorry. I have never heard of that language before. I do not think I can help you."

"This is great," Reese yelled, throwing up his arms. "We're in the middle of nowhere, and the first person we meet doesn't understand anything we say."

Malcolm stared quizzically at Reese, then looked at Dewey who merely shrugged his shoulders.

_I know Reese is slow, but that was really stupid._

"Excuse me," Malcolm said.

"Yes?" the elf answered with amusement.

"You do understand us. Don't you?"

"I understand the tongue you speak, if that is what you mean. But I am not sure if I understand the three of you. What are the children of man doing alone in the wilds of the forest?"

"We don't know," Malcolm admitted, "but this is all . . . uh . . . The children of Man?"

"You are man-children. Are you not?"

"Yeah, I guess, but I'm confused. Um, I'm Malcolm, by the way."

"Well met, Malcolm. I am called Galdor by my people. And who is this young man who greeted me so formally."

"That's my brother Dewey."

"Are you a Vulcan?" Dewey asked.

"No," Galdor replied with another smile, "my people are known to your race as elves. I hope you are not disappointed."

"Elves?" Reese said sarcastically. "You're pretty big for an elf, and I don't see any wings, either."

"Reese, you jerk," Malcolm responded, "Those are fairies. Elves don't have wings."

"Don't call me a jerk, Malcolm. You're the one talking to the elf, and he doesn't even speak English."

"Reese, you heard what he said," Malcolm retorted, "It's obvious we speak the same language."

"I knew that," Reese said, unsurely.

"May I make an offer to you?" Galdor said, interrupting the brothers. "We are near to the halls of Thranduil, which I think is fortunate for you. If you wish to join us, we will see that you are fed and properly clothed. Afterward, if conditions permit, we will help you to return to your homes."

"How close are we?" Malcolm asked.

"A journey of only two days," Galdor said, then frowned at the groans he received.

"I am not walking around in my underwear for two days," Reese said sternly.

"Um, Reese," Malcolm said, taking his brother aside, "I don't think you have much of a choice."

"Of course I have a choice."

"And your choices are?"

"Okay, so I don't have any choices," Reese said, then paused for a minute. "Pick up the phone and let's get going."

"What phone?"

"This one," Reese said picking up the phone that Malcolm had been using the night before. "Hey, we could call someone. I'll call Mom. No, I'll call Dad."

"What if Mom answers?"

"Oh Right. Then who can we call."

"Francis," all three boys answered together.

"The line's busy," Reese said shortly.

"That's the only number we have for the logging camp he works at," Malcolm pointed out. "We'll try again later."

Dutifully, all three boys followed the elf on what was to be an arduous journey.

"I learned a new word," Dewey said, as he picked his way across the stony ground.

"Do you mean 'Arduous?'" Malcolm asked.

"No, I mean the third word that Reese used after he stepped on that last rock."

"I don't think that was a real word, but it sounded pretty good."

*

"That was an interesting story young Malcolm," Thranduil, the Elvin King exclaimed, "but you are right. It gives no clue as to how you came to be here. I regret that we will not be able to send you home, but I will do the next best thing. My son, Legolas, is going to Rivendell to speak in my name on matters of great importance. I will have you and your brothers accompany him. If I am correct, Mithrandril the wizard will be there. He is your best hope for an answer to your question."

"You see, Dewey," Malcolm whispered, "They're kicking us out of here. Next time, don't listen to Reese about starting a leaf collection."

"No, he isn't, and I can prove it," Dewey whispered, then turned to Thranduil and asked, "Can't we just stay here? This place is wonderful."

"I would like to let you stay," Thranduil answered, "but you should know that there are dark things moving. I cannot guarantee your safety."

"Rivendell sounds great," Dewey replied, then whispered to Malcolm. "You were right."

"I got through," Reese said suddenly, and handed the phone to Malcolm after talking briefly with Francis. Thranduil and his entire court watched and listened as Malcolm spoke into this amazing artifact.

*

"HEY, College Boy," Lavernia hollered, "You've got a phone call. Make it quick."

Francis muttered several remarks of thanks toward whoever called him, and walked to the phone. "Hello."

"Francis. This is Reese. We're in trouble. Deep Trouble. We need you to tell us where we are."

"Reese, you're not making any sense. Who's with you?"

"Malcolm and Dewey. It's really weird, Francis, but the food's great."

"And you're not home?"

"No, the house disappeared about three days ago."

"Reese, could you put Malcolm on the phone?" Francis asked, giving a sigh of relief when Malcolm answered.

"Francis, it's me, Malcolm."

"Malcolm, where are you?"

"Um . . . right now? We're in the palace of Thranduil, the Elvin King. Does that help?"

"Are you guys at a theme park?"

"Francis, listen. This is not a joke. We woke up three days ago in the middle of a forest. We had to walk forty miles in our underwear with some ugly green guys taking pot shots at us just for the fun of it. That's all I know. The King just told us he was going to send us to some place called Rivendell, but I have no idea where that is."

Francis paused in thought. "That name sounds familiar. What's the weather like? You could be in Canada."

"This is definitely not Canada," Malcolm assured his brother.

"Hey," Francis called out to the guys hanging around, "does anybody know where Rivendell is?"

"Canada, I think," someone said.

"Did you say Rivendell?" old Pete asked, "I read about it. That's where Archie and Jughead live."

"That's Riverdale, Pete."

"Same thing. It's a small town."

"Thanks, Pete," Francis said in a level voice, then talked to Malcolm. "Okay. This is the story. Nobody here was able to help. That's the good news. By the way, how did you manage to get to a phone."

"It's the house phone," Malcolm answered. "I guess I fell asleep with it, and it came along."

"And it works?"

"Yeah."

"Have you tried calling anyone else?"

"Stevie's out of town until the weekend. I think he's at a funeral. There isn't anybody else worth calling"

"Have you tried calling Mom or Dad?"

"Would you?"

"Of course not. I was just making sure. As long as they don't know what's going on, you're safe."

"Francis, we don't even know what's going on."

"Malcolm, don't worry. I've got a plan. I'll make a few phone calls and get back to you. What time is it where you are?"

"It's daylight, that's all I know."

"Don't you have a watch?"

"Yeah, but I don't sleep with the watch on. It's probably still at the house."

"OK, you don't sleep with a watch, but you sleep with a phone. Are you feeling okay?"

"It's because of a girl."

"That makes sense. I'll call you back with what I can find out. Try calling some of your friends, anyway."

*

"Tell me . . . again," Stevie said, "you are . . . WHERE?"

"We're near the Misty Mountains on our way to Rivendell," Malcolm explained.

"Riven . . . dell? As in . . . the book?"

"What book?"

"The book . . . we're supposed . . . to read for . . . class." Stevie rolled his eyes as he talked into the phone. This was an extremely unusual conversation he was having and, considering Malcolm and his family, that was saying a great deal.

"I never read that book. It disappeared along with the house."

"You are . . . in . . . deep trouble," Stevie said. "Do you know . . . about . . . the orcs?"

_Let me guess. This isn't going to be good._

"Are they green?"

Stevie sighed. He had Malcolm imagine what Reese would be like if his parents encouraged his worst instincts. Then he had Malcolm imagine what Reese would be like if he had access to sharp objects, like swords. "Those are . . . orcs," Stevie explained. "There are . . . thousands . . . of them in . . . those mountains."

_I hate being right._

"Stevie, do you have any idea how we can get out of here?"

"I have . . . no idea . . . how you got . . . there. Call me . . . if you get . . . to Rivendell," Stevie said. "I'll finish . . . the book . . . and tell you . . . what happens."

"What do you mean IF?"

After Malcolm finished with the phone, Legolas Greenleaf approached. "Was your conversation helpful, my young friend?"

"It's weird," Malcolm admitted. "According to Stevie, this whole world is from a story in a book I was supposed to read for class."

"A book? Do you mean a history?"

"No, it's supposed to be a fantasy about this great war between good and evil."

Legolas gave the boy a bemused smile. "A fantasy is not real, young Malcolm, yet you and your brothers are here. How does the story end?"

"I think the good guys win, but I never got the chance to read the book."

"Does the book have a name?"

"Yeah, Lord of the Rings."

Legolas paled when he heard the title. "You have told me much in these few words, Malcolm. I fear I now know why we journey so quickly. I hope the book you speak of was written truly because if you are right the war you speak of will indeed be great. And it is a war we cannot afford to lose. We will have many questions for your friend when we reach the House of Elrond."

"Uh, Mister Legolas, I don't know how much longer I can use the phone. I don't have any way to recharge the battery, and I don't know how long it will last. I'll need to know what to ask Stevie."

"If your friend has read this book, he will know what information we need. Also, Malcolm, I consider your arrival a blessing. Already we know what we are facing. That, in itself, is of great value. Please excuse me. I must discuss this with my companions."

Malcolm nodded, and walked over to where one of the elves was trying to teach Reese and Dewey the basics of swordplay.

_You know, I think we need to learn this really fast._

"What did Stevie say?" Reese asked.

"We're in trouble," Malcolm said.

Reese looked at Malcolm's face and turned to the elf and said, "I've changed my mind. Could you show me that move again?"


	3. Rivendell

CHAPTER THREE: RIVENDELL

  


"Wowww," Dewey said when he saw the valley of Rivendell laid out before him.

_That is an understatement._

"There lies the Last Homely House," Legolas told the boys. "The House of Elrond. Hopefully we will find answers to your questions, as well as ours. May your hearts be cheered by the thoughts of good food and a comfortable bed."

Malcolm tossed his cloak back over his shoulder.

_I love doing that. I'm going to get a cloak when I get home._

"Look, there are some other kids over there," he said, pointing across the valley.

"Those are not children," Legolas pointed out. "They are called hobbits. A messenger informed me they would be arriving near to this time."

"Hobbits?"

"A small people, but friendly, and quick to humor. I am sure that you and Dewey will find them good company."

"What about Reese?"

"We will try to keep him distracted with other things."

The elves led the way, and the three boys entered Rivendell in the early afternoon. They were escorted to a suite of rooms, each one larger than their house. Dewey entered one room and happily shouted, "a bath."

_I know what you're thinking but after two weeks of hiking over mountains, a bath is a good thing, even for Dewey._

"Me first," Reese said as he knocked Dewey out of the way.

"There are three baths prepared," the escort told them. "After such a long journey we would not force any of you to wait."

"I'm not taking a bath with Reese in the same room," Dewey said defensively

"You don't have a choice, butt-breath, because I'm not letting you. I'm first."

"I saw a river. Can I just go swimming instead?" Malcolm asked. "I really don't want to deal with this."

"I will arrange separate bathing chambers at once," the elf said with masterly control. "You," he said, pointing to Reese, "will bathe here. If the two of you will follow me?"

As the disgruntled elf led them down a hallway, the hobbits that Malcolm had spotted earlier that day passed them and entered a room.

"Hot baths?" one of them called out in glee, then added, "Strider will have to bath elsewhere. All four are hobbit sized."

"You have an extra bath?" Dewey called out.

The hobbit looked at him and said, "You're small enough to fit. You're welcome to join us if you need." He took an exaggerated sniff with his nose. "And you do need, or else Merry smells bad enough for two."

"I'm Dewey," the boy called out and followed the three hobbits into the room, giving a shout of joy when they told him that none of them were named Reese.

"That leaves you," The elf said tonelessly.

The Ranger, Strider, came by and looked in the room, then smiled to the elf. "It seems my tub was stolen, not that I would fit anyway. Is this boy looking to bathe as well."

"He is," the elf admitted. "His brother does not like to share."

_Great. He makes it sound like I'm four years old._

"I will take care of him, friend," Strider told the immediately relieved elf who quickly left. Turning to Malcolm, the man said, "You have a unique gift, youngling. You have annoyed an elf in his own house."

"I didn't mean to. Reese is such a jerk at times. I just didn't want to deal with him. And Dewey, well, he took your bath and . . ."

"Enough," the man laughed. "The name is Strider. And you are?"

"Malcolm."

"Well met, Malcolm," Strider replied grasping the boy's shoulder. "We have a quest for two clean baths, and good company, and I know where to find both." As they walked off, he asked, "Is that smell coming from you or me?"

*

"Great timing Stevie," Malcolm said into the phone, "You returned my call just when I got into the bathtub."

"Sorry . . . to bother . . . you," Stevie said. "But . . . I'm glad . . . you're alone."

"I'm not alone. Strider's in the tub next to mine. Stevie, I've got to tell you. This place is great."

"Did you . . . say . . . Strider?"

"Yeah."

"The . . . Aragorn . . . Strider?"

"I don't know where he's from," Malcolm said. Turning to the ranger he asked, "Stevie wants to know if you're from Aragorn?"

Strider startled, then asked in return, "Who do you talk to with your device? How does he know of me?"

"It's only Stevie. He's my friend."

"Malcolm . . ." Stevie called out. "Can I . . . talk . . . to him? It's . . . important."

"Uh, sure," Malcolm said, and handed the phone to Strider, who gingerly placed the mouthpiece to his ear. "It goes the other way," he told the man. Strider barked a short laugh and turned the phone around.

"Well met, Stevie," Strider said into the phone, then frowned immediately. "What deviltry is this?" He paused and added, "I understand, young sir. You have the right of it."

Fifteen minutes later, he handed the phone back to Malcolm. "Stevie will call again at a more appropriate time. He was very informative."

"What did he say?"

"Many things, most of which I am already aware. He knows the future and knows that it could change, but he has given me the heart to deal with the task before me."

"You're not going to tell me?"

"Stevie said you can read all about it when you get home," Strider said with an infectious smile, then settled back to soak in the hot water.

*

"I feel like a dork in these clothes," Reese mumbled as they waited to see Lord Elrond.

_I won't say it. It's very tempting but I'm not going to. All right, I will._

"Clothes make the man, Reese. Ow."

"I'll figure it out later, Malcolm, but I know you insulted me. Ow."

"Watch who you're hitting butt-breath. I'm big enough to hit back. Ow."

"You still hit like a girl. The last one didn't even hurt. Ow."

"Malcolm. Reese. Stop fighting. Someone's coming. Ow. Ow."

"Stay out of this, Dewey."

"Yeah, if you know what's good for you."

*

Elrond left the council meeting with Gandalf and Strider, happy that the discussion came to a fruitful end. Preparations would begin to prepare the Fellowship for their dangerous trek to Mordor. Now he was free to take care of a confusing and much less important matter. Three boys, man children, had appeared in Mirkwood with a strange artifact that permitted them to talk to others in the land they came from. Despite this, they had no idea how they came to Mirkwood, or where their homes lie. It was his duty to see to their upbringing.

As Lord Elrond entered the waiting chamber, he found two boys rolling on the floor in a scuffle while their younger brother was indiscriminately kicking whoever was closest. "Excuse me," he said politely but loudly.

"Dewey, you kick me again and you're dead meat," Malcolm yelled back.

The wizard Gandalf looked highly amused.

"I think I can handle this," Strider said. He walked forward, drawing his sword. With his free hand he pulled Dewey out of the way, letting Gandalf hold the boy to stop him from kicking anyone. That done, he waited until the two boys rolled into the appropriate position and brought his sword down in the sudden gap between their faces and the tangle of arms. Both boys stopped in surprise as the blade appeared between them, but Reese recovered first and pulled Malcolm's head into the broad side of the blade.

"Ow. I think we should stop, Reese. We have company."

"Hey, it wasn't me. I was minding my own business, when Malcolm tried to pick a fight with Dewey. I had to step in."

_That's a pretty good excuse for the spur of the moment. I have to give Reese credit for that one._

Strider offered Malcolm a hand, saying, "you have a unique talent, youngling. You have again annoyed an elf, and this one owns the house."

Elrond looked at the two brothers in their brand new torn clothes. "They can't stay here," he muttered.

"Bree," Gandalf whispered, "we can pack them off to Bree. They'll be safe enough there. There must be a farmer or crafter who could use three extra hands."

"Wonderful," Elrond whispered back, "We'll send them off in the morning." Talking loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room, he said, "Reese, Malcolm, Dewey, the council has come to a decision. We will send you to a place of safety, a town to the west, called Bree. Your guides will see that you are left in good hands before they return."

"We're being kicked out," Malcolm whispered to Strider.

"It would have happened anyway," Strider whispered back, "but they would have been nicer about it." He handled Malcolm's torn sleeve and commented, "I like your new tunic."

"It might be best if you started packing right away," Elrond added, "It will make the journey pass more quickly."

"Nice try," Dewey whispered to the elf. "Even Reese knows you're kicking us out of here."

"I can't help but notice that none of you are surprised," Elrond whispered back.

"Listen, Mister. I may only be ten, but I've already been kicked out of nicer places than this,"

"Really?"

"Well, no, but I've been kicked out of plenty of places."

"We believe you, son," Gandalf said with a patronizing smile, and released the boy from his grasp.

Dewey scampered away with Reese right behind him. Malcolm started to go, but was pulled back by Strider.

"You have been of great help to me, Malcolm, and I wish to repay you."

"But I didn't do anything. Not really. It was Stevie who talked to you."

"That is true, but it was your device. You also did something else. You showed me how innocent children can be, and how they must be protected."

"I'm not exactly innocent," Malcolm reminded him.

"If you were in Minas Tirith, that might be true, and that is where I would have sent you if the land was safer. But here you are innocent. You know nothing of your surroundings and must be shown everything. You know nothing of the wilderness."

_He's making me sound like I'm four years old again._

"But I'm learning."

"You are, and your brothers as well. Reese will be a good man in a fight, and Dewey has taken to the bow like a young elf. I would not trust him at great range, but he can already hit his mark at closer distances. As for you, Malcolm, you will need to practice long and hard to learn these fighting skills, but you have a good mind and a quick eye."

"You're leading up to something."

"I am," Strider said, "I want to give you this, a token. I would also like to tell you a few secrets. Even in the west, things are not quiet. The Rangers can always use another pair of eyes." He took Malcolm aside, and they talked long into the night.

*

"What's this?" Pippin asked as he and Merry walked through Rivendell.

"I don't know," Merry answered as he picked up the phone. "Look at all those buttons." He pressed one and laughed when it made a tone. "It makes music."

"Hit a few more of them," Pippin suggested, "maybe we can figure out how to play a tune on it."

Merry started by hitting the button marked redial. After a short ringing sound, an angry voice was heard, "What is it? Don't waste my time?"

"It talks," Pippin said in amazement. "Say something to it."

"Say what?" Merry asked.

"What are you a couple of jerks?" the phone asked.

"I'll have you know . . " Merry said defensively.

"Oh, its you kids again. HEY, College Boy."

*

"Yeah, Malcolm. What happened?" Francis said as soon as he picked up the phone.

"This is amazing," a voice said at the other end, "It thinks I'm Dewey's brother."

Francis shook his head at the thought of talking to friends of Dewey. He made it a point to assume the worst. "This is Francis. I'm Dewey's oldest brother. Who are you? I can't hear you, talk into the mouthpiece. THE MOUTHPIECE. Do you see the holes my voice is coming out of. Talk into the other set of holes."

"Like this?" the voice asked clearly.

"Perfect," Francis said, smiling. "Now, who are you."

"Meriadoc Brandybuck at your service." the still amazed voice said.

"Meriadoc . . ."

"Call me Merry."

"Merry . . . why are you using the phone?"

"What is a phone?"

"I think it's what you're holding," Pippin told him, and shouted into the mouthpiece, "AND I"M PIPPIN."

"Thanks, Pippin, but you don't have to shout," Francis said. "But why are you using the phone."

"Oh, we found it," Merry answered.

"We were trying to play music on it," Pippin added.

"I've done that," Francis admitted, "If you hit the numbers in this order, you can play Mary had a little lamb . . ."

*

"It's not my fault," Malcolm said, "If you didn't start the fight, I wouldn't have dropped the phone."

"I didn't mean that," Reese said. "We had a good thing going, and you ruined it."

"Yeah, right. It's my fault you started a fight in front of the most powerful elf in the country."

"Good. At least you admit it."

Galdor interrupted, "Could you please try to have a civilized conversation."

_With each other? Is he kidding?_

Reese laughed. "What would we talk about?"

"That is a good point," Galdor admitted, and walked as far ahead as he could from the cart carrying the boys.

The two boys leaned back in the cart and listened as Dewey explained to the driver why he was so well liked by everyone. The driver would respond with a statement in the elfin language. Both Reese and Malcolm were correct in their guess that the words translated as "shut up. Please, shut up."

*

"It is always a pleasure to talk with elves," the merchant said, nervously eyeing the three boys standing in front of him. "May I interest you in any of my wares?"

"We thank you," Galdor said, "but we do not need any goods. We have been charged with the care of these boys, brothers, and we are seeking a home and livelihood for them."

"Good Luck," the merchant said. "We're not partial to strangers around here, and we have troubles of our own. You might try further west. I hear things aren't as bad there."

"No place is truly safe in these days," Galdor admitted, "but we saw how many goods you have and how little help."

"It's not for lack of trying," the merchant admitted, "I can't find anyone with a cart or wagon to move them. No one wants to travel because of all the rumors and the strange people about."

As the merchant talked to the elves, Malcolm devised a plan. 

"Reese," he whispered, "you can drive that cart, right?"

"Yeah," Reese said carefully. "Are you thinking of stealing it?"

"Better yet, I think I can talk them into giving it to us."

"What good will that do?"

"It's simple. This guy needs all this stuff delivered. We get the cart, and get him to pay us to make the deliveries."

"Like the Pizza Guy? That's great," Dewey said. "We'll make lots of tips."

"Uh, yeah, Dewey. What do you say, Reese. They pay us for riding around."

"I like that," Reese asked, "but who's going to load the cart?"

Both boys looked down. "We'll find someone," Malcolm said, as Dewey cringed. Turning to the nearest elf, he asked, "How badly do you want to get rid of us?"

"It is not that we seek to rid ourselves of you, we are trying to find you a livelihood."

_This is going to be so easy._

"I can do that for you, but it'll cost you a cart and a horse."

The elf looked at Malcolm, then at the cart, then turned back to Malcolm. "What is it you plan?"

"Simple. This guy needs these goods delivered. All we need is . . ."

"Done," the elf said, then turned to Galdor. "We have resolved the problem."


	4. Last Train to Bree

A/N: I wanted to thank everyone for reading, especially those who reviewed the story. I am going out of town for the next week, and I will not be posting the next chapter for a while. My apologies to Harriet who likes my style of daily updates, but this was a last minute thing.

  


A note to rabbit and Jinx. It's probably because of Reese. He can be obnoxious.

Also, a note to Em. The new Harry Potter book is supposed to come out in July. I should be ready to start posting before Labor Day. I can't write Malcolm's story until I know what Harry is doing. Sorry.

  
  
  


CHAPTER FOUR: LAST TRAIN TO BREE

  


As Dewey loaded the cart with the first shipment to be delivered, Galdor took Malcolm aside. "I need to stress certain things with you."

"I know," Malcolm said, "always reject the first offer."

"About other things than carting goods," Galdor continued. "The east grows more dangerous. Be frugal with what you have and be prepared to travel west if danger comes too close. Your new profession is more dangerous than you realize."

"Galdor, from what I heard, it's dangerous everywhere. At least we can do something if trouble comes."

_Mainly run._

"You have wisdom about you, manchild. I wish you good fortune."

Malcolm and Reese tied everything down once Dewey was done. The elves continued on their journey west to the Grey Havens, and were long out of sight by this time.

"We've got everything," Reese said.

"Can I rest now?" Dewey asked.

"Quit complaining, Dewey. We still have a long ride ahead of us. Get on the cart. Malcolm, where are we going?"

"Some village about three days north of here. We drop this stuff off and see if we can bring anything back. I made a list of things they need around here."

"I'm trusting you," the merchant called to Malcolm.

"We'll be back within the week," Malcolm assured him. "We'll make good on what we're carrying."

"I'll be honest with you. Almost everything that you carry is something I can afford to lose. The elves told me I could trust you, and I believe them, but I am afraid for you at the same time. There are reasons."

"We'll be fine," Reese said in his quickly rehearsed line, and patted the elvin blade at his side.

"Yeah," Malcolm added, "Dewey was trained by the elves. He can hit his target with a bow, no problem."

"You are sure of yourselves for such a young age," the merchant said. Behind him, barely noticed, two strangers changed their mind about the 'easy target.' Before nightfall everyone in the town knew about the three boys, and their skill with weapons.

*

"You came at a good time," the innkeeper said. "I need everything you brought me."

"There's a question of payment," Malcolm said. "Perhaps we can make a fair deal."

"I'll be as fair as I can," the innkeeper laughed, "but from the tone you use, I think your age belies your experience."

"I am new to the trade but I've always been a fast learner."

"Word has it that you have only been in business for only six weeks."

"Seven, but we've been busy."

"I must ask how travel has been."

"Nothing we haven't been able to handle," Reese said as he put his hand on his sword. The innkeeper marveled at what was clearly an elfin blade. Reese added, "Having Dewey show up with his bow helps out a lot."

"He does look like a young elf," the innkeeper commented.

"And he shoots like one," Malcolm admitted.

_We do this everyplace we go. Reese shows off his sword and we both brag about Dewey. We were approached once last week, then they recognized us and apologized. That was cool._

"Part of our bargain will include a meal and a room for the night," the innkeeper demanded. "Everyone will want to hear your news."

*

"That was good," Malcolm said as he drained the mug.

"It is my own invention," the innkeeper bragged. "It is beer brewed from the aromatic roots of trees. It has no alcohol but it does have a pleasant taste."

"What do you call it?"

"I don't have a name for it yet. I simply call it root beer."

"Do you have any barrels for sale?"

The innkeeper grinned broadly at the question. "That you should ask me proves that I have a profitable brew."

"Malcolm, Reese is in trouble," Dewey said as he rushed up to his brother.

"What happened?"

"He's playing cards and he started betting."

"Poker? Reese is worse than Dad at poker. He'll lose in no time."

"He was winning some hands, but now he's betting the stuff we have and I think he's going to lose. You have to stop him."

"Be careful of that dark man your brother is playing cards with," the innkeeper warned, grabbing Malcolm's arm. "He appeared a few weeks ago but he is hard to trust."

"Wish me luck," Malcolm replied, then turned to Dewey. "Get your bow and find a perch."

"Yaaahhh," Dewey shouted quietly, "I get to play."

_I hope he remembers what to do._

Malcolm casually walked over to Reese "Good hand?"

"Look at this," Reese said happily, "I know I'm going to win."

"Don't be so confident," the dark man, Bill, said with a sloppy grin as he took a long swig from his beer mug.

"This is cool, Malcolm," Reese whispered. "Bill's been drinking steadily the entire night. He actually folded with a winning hand."

"I know," Malcolm whispered back. "I've been drinking the same thing. It's root beer. You do know that he's been leading you on? What have you bet?"

"Uh, everything," Reese said as he suddenly became nervous, "I bet everything we have against his wagon and two horses."

"The horse and the cart and everything in it?"

"Yeah."

"Reese, you idiot," Malcolm yelled. "These cards are marked. He knows exactly what you have."

Everyone at the table became suddenly alert, and angry.

"I didn't know they were marked," Bill swore. "All of you were there when I traded for this deck. We'll destroy these cards . . . after this hand." Bill then made an exaggerated effort to look to see how the cards were marked while Malcolm mouthed something to Dewey who was perched on one of the rafters.

"I believe him," Dewey called out. He was holding his bow with an arrow notched when he yelled out, "Mister, I'm going to shoot the Ace of Spades in three seconds. One . . . Two . . ."

Bill quickly pulled a card out of his sleeve and threw it on the table. Dewey counted three and shot the arrow, piercing the Ace through the center. "Good choice, mister," Dewey called, as he scrambled down from the support and jumped to the floor.

"Do you really have a wagon and two horses," Malcolm asked Bill, who was now very nervous.

"He came into town with them," one of the other card players said. "Now, I'm wondering how he managed to get them."

"I'll give you back what I won," Bill said hurriedly to the others at the table. "I was only trying to cheat the boy."

"Cheat?" another card player accused.

"Here's the deal," Malcolm said quickly as everyone watched him pull the arrow out of the table. "We'll take the wagon and horses that we won, but since you guys have to deal with good old Bill, maybe you should split everything that's on the table."

"It's a deal," one of the men said as they grabbed Bill and dragged him out the back door.

"We're leaving, right?" Reese whispered.

"Right now," Malcolm agreed. "We're even going to help Dewey load our new wagon."

"Good idea," the innkeeper said. "It won't take long for everyone to realize that you have the lions share. Horses are hard enough to come by, plus the wagon."

"How many barrels of root beer can I get from you?" Malcolm asked as he laid out his offer. The innkeeper smiled. He would make a handsome profit for six Kegs, but he also demanded the arrow as part of the payment.

By sunrise the boys were several miles away heading for Bree, and the arrow was now mounted behind the bar for all the patrons to talk about.

*

Malcolm and Reese had become adept at ignoring most of the travelers they passed. Mostly because they couldn't do anything about it. At least until their return trip to Bree.

"Look at that," Dewey said, "That lady up there tossed away a perfectly good pot."

"It's too much to carry," Malcolm said, "people do it all the time when they, uh, . . ."

_I know. We've been picking up all the good stuff we find, but I never saw anyone actually throwing it away before._

"Stop the wagon," Dewey said almost in tears.

"Don't cry Dewey. It'll make them feel bad."

Malcolm stopped the wagon, as Reese pulled up behind him in the cart. The woman they had seen was yelling at a dirty lump lying on the ground. "Get up, Terrin. We can't afford to rest yet. Mika, Paula, wait up."

"Excuse me, Ma'am," Dewey said. "Can we offer you a ride?"

"We don't need charity," The lady swore.

"It's not charity," Malcolm started to say.

"Then WHAT is it?"

"Look, lady," Reese shouted, "we have an empty cart. Do you want a ride or not?"

The lady began to turn red with anger.

Reese jumped off the cart and walked up to the bundle lying on the ground. Picking up the young boy he walked back to the cart and laid him inside. "Lady, if you're strong enough to take him out, you can walk. Otherwise, get your stuff and get your kids and get in."

The lady stared at Reese

As the lady called the rest of her children and loaded them into the cart, Malcolm pulled Reese aside. "That was amazing, Reese. How did you think of doing that?"

"What are you talking about? You wanted to give her a ride. I was just making her take it."

"You did it to be bossy?"

"Yeah, and get this, I bet she can cook. If we supply the food, she and her rugrats can do all the work."

_It figures. I didn't think Reese would bother doing something really nice_.

"Thank you," the lady said as the cart began to move.

"For what?" Reese asked.

The lady smiled at the teenager next to her. "I would like to earn my way. Would you like me to drive the cart?"

Reese looked nervously at the wagon to see if Malcolm or Dewey were watching. "Please don't tell them you asked," Reese said softly as he handed her the reins.

"I understand," The lady said with a warm smile. "You have a reputation to maintain. I promise that I'll even grumble that you made me drive the cart."

"Thanks, Lady," Reese beamed, "and that bag back there is my lunch, but I'm not hungry."

"I guess I should also complain that you gave us your leftovers. My name's Lois, by the way."

"That's my Mom's name," Reese said with mixed feelings. He leaned back smiling as he closed his eyes for a nap. He was in heaven. 

*

"It looks as though you have room," a man called out to Malcolm as the wagon rolled by. "May I purchase a ride?"

"I'm going only as far as Bree, and I don't know where after that."

"It would be enough. I travel to the White Hills, near to the Grey Havens. I have cousins there."

Malcolm looked at the man, the heavy pack he was carrying, and the young boy with him. He motioned for them to get in back of the wagon then asked, "What's your offer?"

"Whatever I have, I will barter with."

"What's that?" Dewey asked.

"The only thing I will not barter. My flute."

The man saw the twinkle in Dewey's eye and smiled. "I see we have a deal." He put the flute to his lips and began to play, much to the boy's delight.

*

The three brothers had become well known in the town of Bree. Of course they were well known as the fools with the cart until they kept returning. Then the locals who were scared took heart and went back to business.

_That's why there wasn't anything to trade when we came back this time. What's worse, we didn't have any money, but we had two horses and a real wagon. We were ready to haul, as you can tell._

"I am sorry, boys," the merchant told them, "You kept coming back, and everyone began to feel safe again. All of my regular traders came back."

"And you don't have anything?"

Reese and Malcolm huddled while Dewey tried to listen in. Reese asked the obvious question. "Do you really want to ride around empty?"

"Look, Reese, we have two horses and a wagon big enough to haul a lot of stuff. All we have to do is make a deal for some food. We're eating a lot more than we planned on."

"We can't send them away," Dewey pleaded.

"I think it's worth it," Reese said. "I've been eating better than I did whenever one of us cooked."

_I hate this. We're stuck with Hal and his son and Lois and her three children. What's worse they're falling for each other. I don't know why but I feel sorry for the kids. I have to do it. I have to tell them the free ride is over._

Malcolm walked over to tell everyone to get out of the wagon, when Lois happily told him, "It's Terrin. His fever's broken. He's going to be fine."

_Damn. Why did she have to say that? What do I do now?_

"Is it time for us to part ways," Hal asked when he saw Malcolm's discomfort.

"Uh," Malcolm said clearly.

_This is ridiculous. I'm never any good at standing up to people when they're nice._

"We don't have much of a market here," Malcolm said. "We're going to try further west. You're welcome to join us, if you're going that way. We still have plenty of room."

"You are a godsend," Lois said gratefully.

*

"You told them they could stay with us?" Reese was amazed. He was also delighted but would never admit this."

"I didn't know what to do," Malcolm admitted.

"If we had the phone we could call Francis and ask him," Dewey added.

"And if we were home, we could watch TV instead," Malcolm replied.

He walked up to the merchant and asked about supplies. By the time the bartering was finished, the three brothers had enough food to last everyone for a week and the merchant's son had Dewey's boots

"I liked those," Dewey complained.

"Don't worry Dewey. It's stylish to go barefoot. It makes you look rustic."

"Nice try, Malcolm, but you still have boots."

_And this really neat cloak. Did I tell you I love this cloak?_

Malcolm tossed his cloak over his shoulder_ . . ._

_ I know. I should stop doing that._

. . . and told Dewey to get into the wagon. "We're going to the Shire."

"That's where Sam comes from," Dewey shouted as he crawled into the wagon.

Reese smiled as he started the horses moving. He was not going to school today, again.

Behind them came the cart, holding Hal, his new wife, and their four children, all grateful for the extended ride toward their new home.__

_*_

"What's the problem?" Francis said into the phone.

"It's like this," Merry told him, "we're stuck outside the door and we don't know the password. The sign says speak friend and enter, but it doesn't tell us what to say."

"It's obvious, Merry. You're supposed to speak the word 'friend.' What's so hard about that?"

"Tell Pippin that. He said I'd sound stupid if I suggested it. I'M telling Gandalf."

"Are you sure, Francis?" Pippin said into the phone.

"I'd bet my life on it."

"Ohhh," Pippin said suddenly, "I have to go."

"Why? What is it?"

"I don't know but it has a lot of tentacles."

Eric came over as Francis hung up the phone. "How's your brother? Did he find his way home, yet?"

"I have no idea. He lost the phone weeks ago. That was Merry asking me to decide a bet."

"Is he the one that gave you that great recipe for rabbit?"

"That was Sam. He offered me gardening tips but . . ." Francis pointed out the window at the three feet of snow, and Eric nodded in agreement.


	5. Interacting with Hobbits

CHAPTER FIVE: INTERACTING WITH HOBBITS

"You can do it, Dewey," Malcolm assured his brother.

"But I'll be killing Bambi," the boy whimpered as he tried to hold the bow steady.

"That's not Bambi," Reese told him, "That's Bambi's mutant stepfather, who goes around eating small children."

Dewey turned and stared at his brother. "Do you really expect me to believe that garbage."

"Then believe this, Dewey," Malcolm hissed. "That deer is at least two good meals for all of us. You're the one who started this stuff about picking up homeless people. Now we have to feed them."

"I can't do it."

"It's either that or delicious dried vegetable stew . . . again."

The arrow sped true to its target.

(For all you animal rights activist, the deer was in an over-populated area for its species. Also, Dewey was trained in the skill of archery and as the description of the shot clearly indicates the deer died painlessly and in a humane manner. Also note that the deer was shot for the purpose of food, and that everyone cleaned up after themselves, helping to preserve our natural resources for future generations.)

"It's a good thing we remembered to bring trash bags," Dewey said in an environmentally conscious manner.

"Shut up Dewey."

*

"Do you think we're in the right place?" Reese asked. "These people are all so small."

"They're hobbits, like those guys we met in Rivendell," Malcolm reminded him.

"That's cool. I'd be in heaven if I went to school here. I could boss everybody around."

"I don't know. They run pretty fast. You wouldn't catch them."

Reese thought for a minute and agreed. "Anyway, there's a house."

"No, it isn't," Malcolm said. "That's only a root cellar or something."

"They have a lot of cellars with no houses," Dewey commented.

"Those cellars have windows," Reese added.

"Shut up, Dewey. You may be right, Reese. That could be how they live. We must be in the Shire."

"May I help you big folk?" an old hobbit called out as the wagon rolled up. "Gregan Longbottom's the name, and you look like you want to do business."

Reese smiled back. "We've got plenty of goods, but we're having trouble finding people who want them.

Gregan smiled widely. "Then maybe you should try hobbits. Show me what you carry, and we may be able to make a trade. I have some of the finest pipeweed in the South Farthing, and some tell me it's the best in the Shire."

"I told you this was the Shire," whispered Dewey.

"Shut up. Dewey," Reese said, then turned to the hobbit. "I don't know much about pipeweed, but I do have six kegs of root beer."

Gregan gave a quizzical look as some of his helpers and family stopped to listen. "Is it strong. I've never heard of that kind of beer."

"It's not real beer," Reese laughed. "Even kids can drink it. Especially kids."

Some of the younger hobbits began making noises at that, and Gregan was forced to hush them up. "You've made me curious, big fellow. I'll trade you untried one keg for one barrel of my best pipeweed. We'll try it out over a good meal and then get down to business."

"Done," Reese said before Malcolm could say anything. At Malcolm's look he replied, "don't worry. I know what I'm doing."

_I think Reese is lying._

Gregan stepped up to Reese as he climbed off the wagon." Why don't we go inside and talk while my boys help unload the wagon." When Malcolm walked up to join them, Gregan looked at him sharply. "Shouldn't you mind your horses first?"

_Why's he yelling at me? I'm the one in charge._

As Malcolm opened his mouth, Reese spoke up. "There is another matter," he said as he pointed to the cart holding the newlyweds and their four children. "We had plenty of room, and we're helping them get to the west."

_What's going on? Reese turned that around so smoothly, it's like he actually has a brain._

The hobbit looked at the two boys and shook his head. "That's something I've never seen. A pair of traders with hearts. I'll wager you didn't charge them for passage either."

"The horses are taken care of," Dewey said. "Thanks for helping."

"That's good," Reese said, "Now take care of the cart."

Gregan looked at Malcolm. "Shouldn't you be helping?"

Malcolm shrugged his shoulders and walked after Dewey.

_This is terrible. There won't be anything left by the time Reese is done making a deal. I still remember the poker game._

_*_

"That was great," Reese said as they finished eating. "I'd give you the horses and the wagon for another meal like that."

"You've made my wife proud with those words," Gregan whispered, "But if I know her, all you need to do is wait for the next meal." Both laughed cheerfully as Malcolm looked on.

_"This is amazing. Reese has this guy eating out of the palm of his hand."_

"Excuse me," Malcolm said.

"I'm talking with your brother, young man," Gregan said. "Please don't interrupt."

"Malcolm," Reese said firmly, "maybe you should take Dewey outside and check on the horses."

The two younger boys were ushered out of the house and found themselves in the afternoon sun. Malcolm looked back at the round door as it closed behind him, and sighed. He was willing to bet double or nothing that they would have nothing left by morning.

*

"You're big people aren't you," a young hobbit said as he walked up to Malcolm and Dewey. "I've seen big people before. You can always tell big people because of their height."

"Yeah," Malcolm said. "That's why we're called big people."

"My brother says that all big people are clumsy," the hobbit added, "and they always make a lot of noise. You're not making a lot of noise. Are you sick or something? I had a frog that was sick but it turned out that it was a toad. You don't look sick. Are you contagious."

Before Malcolm could answer, two other hobbits walked up. They were a little older and obviously brothers of the young hobbit.

"Dewly, what are you doing?" the older hobbit asked, as he smacked him in the back of the head.

"You're not supposed to hit me."

"Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it? Cry to Mom?"

As though inspired by the suggestion, Dewly ran off screaming toward a hobbit hole. As he reached the door, his mother came out, saw him and ushered him inside. "YOU," she shouted at the older hobbit, "GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW. WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT HITTING YOUR BROTHER."

"That was strange," Dewey said to the one remaining hobbit.

"Mom is always yelling about something. It's not like we do anything really wrong. Did Dewly ask you? About eating?"

"No,"

"Oh, we're supposed to ask if you want to join us for late lunch. Grandfather's talking business with your boss and he doesn't want you to go hungry."

_Great. Now Reese is our boss._

The two boys followed the hobbit back to his hole.

_This kid looks awfully familiar._

"This is my brother Dewey, and I'm Malcolm."

"That's weird," the boy laughed. "My name's Malco. I saw you come in with a cart and a wagon. Are you rich?"

"Not really. We seem to be getting by, though."

"I wish I was older. Then I could do the things I want to do, instead of being bossed around all the time."

"I know what you mean," Malcolm assured him. "But don't worry. Things will get better."

Malco looked Malcolm in the eye and said, "Do you know what the best thing about childhood is? At some point, it stops."

_I knew this kid was familiar._

*

Dewey looked at his brother while they were washing up before eating. "Malcolm, why don't you ever relax."

"What are you talking about, Dewey?" Malcolm said accusingly.

"That," Dewey said sternly. "You're always yelling. You don't think we can do anything. You're worse than Reese ever was."

"You don't understand anything, Dewey. We're lost. We've been lost for weeks. We don't even have a place to live. I hate it, not having a home."

"We have a home," Dewey said softly.

"Sleeping under the wagon is not a home."

"Yes it is. It's our home. As long as we have the wagon we have someplace to go."

"Why don't you ask Reese how he feels?" Malcolm said sarcastically.

"He likes it."

"He does?"

Dewey put his arm on Malcolm's shoulder. "We all miss Mom and Dad and Francis, but Reese and I know we have to deal with it."

"I don't . . ." Malcolm began to say, but Dewey held up his hand to stop him.

"If there's anyway to get home, you'll find it. You're smart. But until then, this is what we have. Go with it, Malcolm."

_I guess I have been a jerk._

"Dewey, I'm sorry. I thought you guys didn't care. When did you become so smart?"

"I'm only ten, but I've watched a lot of soap operas."

"Cool."

*

"You're still out here?" Reese asked, taking the pipe out of his mouth.

"It was nice out. We fell asleep," Malcolm said. "What are you doing with a pipe?"

"Gregan gave it to me. It makes me look professional."

"Oh," Malcolm said, then asked curiously, "What's it like? Smoking a pipe, I mean."

Reese shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I've never tried. But it is a nice pipe. And the wagon's loaded and ready to go."

"Yaaaahh," Dewey yelled.

"Reese. What do you mean the wagon's loaded?"

"You said we should never leave a place empty. I worked out a deal. We now own twelve barrels of Longbottom Leaf, the finest pipeweed in the Shire."

"And?" Malcolm asked hopefully, but with little hope.

"And the names and places of several people who might like them."

"And?"

"And we don't have any money, but we also have plenty of food."

_"Actually, that sounds pretty good."_

"I've got to know, Reese. How did you do this? Those kegs couldn't bring us that much money."

"Promise you won't tell Mom?"

"Guaranteed."

"Do you know how much these elvin cloaks are worth?"

_NO, not my cloak?_

"Don't cry, Malcolm," Dewey said. "At least YOU still have boots." Dewey looked at Malcolm seriously, and said, "You still have something to do. You promised."

"Yeah," Malcolm said as he walked over to the cart.

"Do we have to go now?" an alert and active young boy asked as he saw Malcolm approach.

"Yeah, Terrin. Can I talk to your dad?"

Terrin smiled as he called out for the man.

"Should we unload the cart, now?" he asked. "You have already been more than generous to us."

"It all worked out," Malcolm said. "None of us know how to cook. Can I ask you a favor?"

"Anything, my young friend."

"Well, you said you were going close to the Grey Havens. There's an elf there named Galdor. He lent us the cart and horse for as long as we needed." Malcolm nodded to the wagon. "It would help us both out if you could return the cart for me."

"Thank you, Malcolm," the man said warmly, and hugged the now embarrassed boy. "If there is anything else I can do for you please let me know."

"That was a nice thing you did," Gregan said as he walked up behind Malcolm. Malcolm simply nodded as the cart rolled down the road to the west. He smiled at Malcolm, and added, "too bad you gave them all of your food."

_What?_

*

"What?" the hobbit asked of his younger brother.

"Mom told you to watch me, Malco."

"That doesn't mean I have to hold your hand, Dewly. This is why everybody teases you."

_I remember this. This is the way Dewey used to act when we were younger. Do you want to know a scary thought. Think about Malco's friends. Yeah, Hobbit Geeks._

"Hey, Malco," Malcolm said in a friendly manner.

"You're still here?"

"Yeah, I was being nice and accidently gave away all our food."

Malco laughed. "Your brother said you were the smart one."

"Well. If you're supposed to be so smart, think of a solution."

"That's easy," Malco told him. "Sell something of value. Information. Do you know anything we don't know?"

"A lot of things," Malcolm replied, "but most of them nobody wants to know."

"You could sneak into the crops."

"I'm bigger than everyone else in this place. Look, kid," Malcolm said, "This is the way it is. I don't have any talents that your people would want. I can memorize numbers instantly, add them, divide them, do anything, but that doesn't help anyone who's trying to grow corn."

"Come with me," the hobbit said urgently, grabbing Malcolm's hand.

"Where are we going," Malcolm demanded as he found himself running down the road.

"Gregan Longbottom"

"But he hates me."

"Grandfather hates me, too."

*

"That was truly wonderful," Gregan Longbottom said. "You are a wizard with numbers, Malcolm, and I find that amazing for big people."

"Thank you, but you should know that your grandson can do the same thing."

"You are right," Gregan admitted. "The boy tried to tell me but I wouldn't listen. I guess I didn't want to believe that someone that much younger than me was that much smarter."

"I know what he's going through. He just wants to be treated like a normal kid, who just happens to be good with numbers."

"You're right again, even if you are big folk," Gregan laughed.

"So, Grandfather," Malco said slyly, "I guess you'll talk to Mom about that teacher you don't care for."

"I will, indeed. I'll eat my words and tell her I was completely wrong about your special classes."

_Damn. I'm still going to that school._

"Uh, thanks Grandfather."

*

"And remember," Reese said, "the key is staying there and telling them you saw everything. Nobody ever blames the eyewitness."

"Thanks," the hobbit said, "I'll let you know how it went the next time you come." Joyfully, the young lad ran off.

"What was that?" Malcolm asked.

"Malco's brother. I was giving him some tips on how to brighten up his school days."

"They never worked for you. You always got into trouble."

"That doesn't mean I didn't enjoy doing them."

_It's weird, but that makes sense._


	6. Isengard

A/N: My week away ended much faster than I hoped, but I'm back again. Oh, joy, I hear you shout, followed by muttering voices saying get on with the story already. 

  
  


CHAPTER SIX: ISENGARD

"Shopping's done," Malcolm called out, as he put the last boxes in the wagon.

"Where are we going now?" Dewey asked, as he tried on his new boots.

"South, again," Malcolm said as he threw his new cloak over his shoulder.

_I had to get one. It's not as good as that elvin cloak but I still look good._

"I met a guy who put a down payment on the rest of the barrels. His boss is some bigwig. All we have to do is drop the rest of the stuff off and we're home free."

"Does that mean we can do whatever we want?" Reese asked.

"Exactly. I've figured it out," Malcolm told his brothers. "This pipeweed is a goldmine. We still have six barrels, and we already have enough gold to buy another horse and wagon."

"Gold?" a voice said from behind them. "Would you care to share it? Gold can buy you protection on a long trip."

Malcolm looked at the man, who made a hand movement, a sign that Strider had taught him. "I'll be back shortly, guys," he said as he walked away from the wagon with the stranger.

"Malcolm is playing Junior Ranger again," Reese said, and both boys laughed.

"Is that like Boy Scouts?" Dewey asked.

"I don't know," Reese said with a puzzled look, while Dewey watched the clouds form his name.

*

"There is trouble this far south, young one," the Ranger told Malcolm. "Where do you head from here?"

"We were planning on going further south. We have six barrels to deliver. We're making a killing."

"Dark forces are on the move. You have been very lucky, and I have been watching, but I must leave. I wanted to warn you of great danger."

"We'll be fine," Malcolm assured the Ranger, "our next stop is Isengard."

"You are fool enough for you and your brothers," the Ranger hissed. "Isengard is why all these people are fleeing north, or hadn't you noticed?"

_Uh, no I haven't. I got used to seeing people wandering around._

"Mister, we don't have much choice. Some guy came by and put a down payment on what we have left. We'll try and go in and get out just as quickly, but we have to go."

"And you will keep your eyes open?" the Ranger mused.

"I promised Strider," Malcolm said cautiously. "Where do you think we should go from there?"

"I am heading south myself," the Ranger told him, "I was not planning on going by Isengard but perhaps I should join you after all. It could prove to be an interesting trip."

"We have room in the wagon, I guess."

"I have a horse," the Ranger mused. 

"My name's Malcolm."

"Well met, Malcolm, and I am Radagast."

*

"It's hard, Stevie," Pippin said into the phone. "I feel like I'm the cause."

"Don't . . . be sad," Stevie told him, sharing his grief. "Gandalf did . . . what he . . . had to do. He . . . was fighting . . . for the . . . greater good. It was . . . fated . . . to happen."

"And my fate?" Pippin said bitterly.

"The same . . . as his, . . . to fight . . . for . . . the greater good."

Pippin nodded his head even though Stevie could not see. "You're right, Stevie. I have to keep trying, or Gandalf would have died for nothing." Consoled, he put the phone away, and looked at Merry. "I'll still miss him, Merry."

"We all will. But Stevie was right, we have to go on, for Gandalf's sake."

Meanwhile, in a distant world, a young black boy in a wheelchair was crying for no reason. It was all a story in a book before this, but talking with Merry and Pippin made it feel real. Stevie knew that Gandalf would return but that did not ease the pain. He would have to wait until he could share in his friends' joy.

*

"I'm sorry, Francis," Eric told his roommate.

"I'll tell them next time I talk to them," Francis said, "but it's weird. I can't feel sad about it. I mean, this guy stood in the way of an actual monster to save everybody else. They should write books about what he did."

"You're right," Eric said in awe. "What a way to go."

*

"What's wrong, Radagast?" Malcolm asked his new friend.

"There has been a disturbance in the Force, my young friend."

_He didn't just say that?_

"Excuse me?"

Radagast laughed slightly. "Dewey has been sharing his fantasies with me. I thought that phrase had an interesting sound to it." In a serious tone, he added, "One of my brothers has slipped behind the veil. I can no longer see him with my inner eye."

"Do you mean he's dead?"

"Not dead. I had two brothers die a long time ago, but this feels different. He was taken out of this world but not by death. Nor has he faded from my sight as does my remaining brother. He is gone, but I do not think he will stay away."

"Mister Radagast, you are just a ranger, aren't you?"

"Only a ranger, dear Malcolm, but I am very close to my family."

"I believe you," Malcolm lied.

*

Galadriel of Lothlorien watched as the hobbit and his companions slept. Frodo Baggins did not like the visions he saw in her mirror. As she stood there, the phone began to ring. The elf quickly removed the device from the travel bag and pressed the appropriate button. She smiled, thinking it fortunate she could see into the minds of mortals.

"Merry, It's Francis. I'm sorry to bother you, but the guys insisted I let you know how we feel."

"Your thoughts will be a comfort to your friend, Francis. I will give him your message. He and his companions are sleeping now, and will recover their strength."

"Thank you, Miss? . . ."

"I am called Galadriel, young man. It may amuse you to know that I am an elf and a leader of my people, but you had best turn around and tell the lady behind you that she has beautiful eyes."

"You lost me on that. What am I supposed to do?"

"Turn around, Francis." Galadriel smiled to herself and pressed the button to disconnect the call.

"That was weird," Francis said as he hung up the phone.

"That's `cause your friends are all freaks, College Boy," Lavernia yelled. "Now help with the customers."

Francis turned around and saw a young girl his age standing there, looking totally annoyed. "You have beautiful eyes."

The girl fumed at him. "You keep me waiting fifteen minutes while you run your mouth, and then you come out with that load of bull."

"What load of bull," Francis yelled back. "You do have beautiful eyes. In fact you have the most beautiful eyes I ever saw."

"You tell 'er, kid."

"Thanks, Pete." Francis turned back to the girl and said in a soft tone. "I'm sorry. I was having a weird conversation, and then I turned around and saw you. The words just blurted out. My name is Francis, Ma'am. How may I help you?"

"My name is Piama. Tell me more about my eyes."

*

"Malcolm, is Radagast a wizard?" Dewey asked.

"How would I know? I don't know what a wizard is anyway. I only saw one and he was laughing at us."

"Well, he talks to the horses like he understands them. And I saw him talking to birds, too."

"There's your answer, then. He's what they have for a veterinarian."

"Like Doctor Dolittle?"

"Exactly?"

"Can I drive the wagon after lunch?"

*

"So what's it like being a wizard?"

"Am I that obvious, Reese?"

"If I can figure it out, you must be, but I guess you want to keep it a secret."

"Not really, but I do not want it bandied about. Saruman at Isengard is my brother wizard. He will know me if I appear, but I need to know how much he has changed. That is why I wormed my way into sharing your journey. I do have one advantage over my brother, though. He has always deemed me simple."

Reese smiled knowingly. "I do that all the time. It does make things easier, but sometimes I forget to think."

Radagast laughed. "Sometimes it is not worth it to think about anything."

Reese joined in the laughter, then asked, "You talk to the horses. What do they think?"

"They like the warmer weather as we move south. They also like you and your brothers. You take much better care of them than their former master. I should warn you, they didn't like it when you made Dewey go barefoot, even if it has been an unseasonably warm winter."

"We bought new boots as soon as we made enough money," Reese said defensively, looking nervously at the horses.

"I explained it to them," Radagast assured the much relieved boy. "I believe your brothers are ready. Shall we continue our journey?"

*

"We will travel light," Aragorn told Legolas and Gimli. "We will do our best to save Merry and Pippin, but I fear we shall avenge them."

"We are ready," Gimli said. "I would only wish to know if our quest is in vain."

"You speak for all of us my friend," Legolas said. "This has been an ill-fated day, but we may yet hope."

As they began to leave, a ringing noise came from one of the hobbits' packs. Aragorn reached into the pack and pulled out the phone but it had stopped ringing by that time. "Youngling," he said to the air, "you should take better care of your things. I am amazed that you would lose this, yet more amazed that our hobbit friends could keep it a secret."

"That is Malcolm's device," Legolas said as he looked at the phone in the ranger's hand. "He has a friend . . ."

"Stevie," Aragorn said. "I've talked with him. He will know if our quest is in vain."

"Is this Stevie a wizard? Where is he?" Gimli asked.

"He is a wizard by my reckoning, but he is very far away. He talked with me by means of this device, but I do not know how to use it to communicate with him."

"I do," Legolas said, "On my journey to Rivendell, I watched our young foundling as he called his friend, and his brother." Legolas pressed from memory the buttons that Malcolm had pushed, then handed the phone to Aragorn as the phone began to ring.

"Hello, Kenarban residence," a lady answered.

"Well met, my lady. Might we speak with Stevie?" Aragorn said.

"Who are you?" Mrs. Kenarban said in a suspicious tone.

Aragorn looked confused. "Did you press the correct buttons, Legolas?"

"I think I understand," Legolas said, remembering his conversations with Malcolm and his brothers. He gestured for the phone, and prayed that his perfect memory was exactly that. "Mrs. Kenarban, this is Mr. Legolas. I'm calling to discuss a literary project Stevie is doing for the school. Is he there by any chance?"

Aragorn and Gimli were doing their best to stifle their laughter at an elf acting so unelflike. 

"Yes he is," the lady said, "but who was that other man?"

"Oh, that was Mr. . . . Strider, my associate. He has poor communications skills, but he has excellent attributes in other areas. I apologize if he disturbed you."

"I only want to know what you said," Gimli told the elf.

"I said that I wanted to talk to her son, that it was related to a book he was reading, and that our good friend Aragorn does not know how to use a phone."

"That . . . was funny . . . but who . . . are you?"

"You must be Stevie. Mae Govannen. I am Legolas Greenleaf. I am told that you know of me."

"You're . . . an elf," Stevie said with excitement.

"Indeed, and I must now ask you to speak to someone you have talked with before."

"Well met, Stevie," Aragorn said into the phone. "We took the time to try to reach you because we have an important question."

"Where . . . are you?"

"Amon Hen."

"Is . . . Frodo there?"

"He and Sam are already across the river and heading for Mordor. I need to ask about Merry and Pippin. Will we find them alive or dead? Do we hunt or pursue?"

"Uh . . . uh . . . pursue," Stevie said with trepidation.

"I will ask no more of you, my friend, but this I did need to know. Our task will be easier as there is indeed hope."

"Strider . . . did you . . . hear from . . . Malcolm?"

Aragorn let out a friendly laugh. "I have perhaps good news. The Lady Galadriel told me that he and his brothers are in the west. They have a cart and a horse and they have become merchants of sorts."

"They're . . . working . . . together?" Stevie asked in surprise. He was laughing when he hung up the phone.

"What we thought is true then," Legolas said.

"We may have to run all the way to Isengard, but we will rescue them," Aragorn said cheerfully.

The three companions broke camp. Free of all doubt, they raced in quick pursuit of the Urak Hai.

*

"Doesn't look like much," Dewey said as they came in view of the tower of Orthanc.

"It looked nicer in the old days," Radagast said. "That was when it was surrounded by woods and gardens."

"It looks like a factory town," Malcolm said. "But what would they make here?"

"War," Radagast said. "Shall we visit my brother?"

"I have to ask why we're doing this. It doesn't seem like a good idea."

_It used to, when we were miles away and thinking only about the money._

"I need to know if my brother has been lost forever. That is why I go. You go because of honor and need. Together, I think we both will be able to leave. Do you trust me, Malcolm?"

_I hate this. But he is right. This guy made a down payment. If we can get the rest of the money from him, we can go anywhere. Well, anywhere safe. I don't know what honor has to do with it_.

"Sure."

"Reese, Dewey, I have to ask you the same question."

Reese smiled. "You're so much like my brother Francis. I trust you."

"Me, too," Dewey said. "After all, Clip and Clop trust you."

_I'm not joking. That's what he calls the horses. And get this, they answer to their names._

"Then let us ride into the viper's den."

Radagast rode in front, with Reese, Malcolm and Dewey following with the wagon. As they passed into Isengard numerous orcs would stop to stare at them, uncertain how to act toward these intruders. As they neared Orthanc, a tall man with multicolored robes descended the tower.

"Well, brother," Radagast said to Saruman, "You have taken war to heart. I would never have thought of need for all of this. But look. I met these merchants and led them here. They have business with you."

"The pipeweed," Saruman said with a smile as he looked at the boys. "How many barrels do you have?"

"Six," Malcolm said as he handed over the invoice.

_We were lucky. We speak the same language but we write differently. All I had to do was figure out what letters went where. It was easy._

"Such a price," Saruman said as he looked at the bill. "But well worth it. I suppose I should pay you. My servant will show you where to store five barrels, then he will lead you to me with the sixth. I will have your gold waiting for you." He turned back to Radagast and said, "Let me show you what I have been doing, old friend. I hope you can appreciate it."

"Follow me," a short skinny orc told the brothers and led them to a storage shed. "On the second floor," he told them and stood by looking at the horses while Reese and Malcolm struggled with the barrels.

"Do you like your job?" Dewey asked. "Do you get paid much? You don't have a dental plan. I can tell. Do you get a vacation?"

"I do what the master tells me," the orc said. "If he tells me to kill you I kill you. If he tells me to let you live, then . . ."

"That's not much of a life. Did you ever consider changing jobs? I've found retail to be a very good occupation although it involves a lot of travel."

"Do you think so? I don't have many skills. I can kill. I can follow orders. I have great endurance. I can kill."

"You might try a related field. I know a lot of places could use a security guard, especially someone who can present a tough guy image. But you got to remember this. You're the boss when you're on the job. Don't settle for being a minimum wager."

"Security? You may be on to something. I have a cousin in Mirkwood . . ."

  


"Where's the ugly guy?" Reese asked as he and Malcolm finished with the fifth barrel.

"He decided he hated his job. He quit," Dewey explained.

Malcolm wiped the sweat off his brow. "Great. How do we know where to take the last barrel?"

"I asked him. You just go up those steps and turn left. You can't miss it."

"Those steps?" Malcolm yelled, "That's like twelve flights up in a single run. We're going to be dead by the time we get up there."

"Let's go," Reese grumbled. "Let's get it over with."

*

"Do you see, brother? We must bow to the higher power. We must submit to Sauron."

"I understand," Radagast said, giving a clever wink, "I will follow your lead." He winked again, much to the annoyance of Saruman, once the White, now the Many-Coloured.

"I appreciate your sentiments," Saruman said with irritation.

"Just tell me what you want me to do," Radagast said eagerly. "I can go anywhere. Wait, I know. I can go with those merchant boys. It will be a great disguise."

"How clever you are," Saruman said in delight at the thought of getting rid of his dim-witted associate. He would pay those boys after all and usher them out of the tower as soon as possible.

"Watch out Dewey. You're in the way." Reese yelled from the doorway.

"I'm helping." 

"No, you're not," Malcolm yelled. "You're standing in front of the door."

"I'm holding it open."

"It was open already."

Dewey let go of the door which promptly closed.

Saruman listened as he heard Malcolm say from the other side, "Open the door, Dewey."

"I told you so," Dewey replied.

  


"There," Saruman pointed when the boys entered, and the boys placed the barrel in the corner of the room. He handed Malcolm a small pouch. "That should be more than enough. Thank you. I believe you know the way out. Radagast will show you. After all, he will be traveling with you."

"He will?" Malcolm said.

"I will," Radagast said happily, "I will explain it to you on the way. Lord Saruman is VERY busy." He turned back and winked, while Saruman smiled weakly.

As the door closed behind them, Saruman muttered to himself, "He is a most irritating person. I pity you boys." He then laughed and added, "better you than me."

*

"You were an inspiration," Reese said once they were safely away and heading west. "I have seen and done a lot of things but that was pure art. You had him hating you just enough. He was glad to get you to leave."

"It involved taking the three of you with me," Radagast said, "which is why you are here as well."

"He's that bad?"

"He would have killed me if he did not think I was of some use. You were an excuse to get me to leave."

"There's no hope for him, then?" Malcolm asked

"I see none. His end will come soon however. My friends have already told me that much. And now I must leave you. I have my own work to do."

"We'll miss you," Dewey said, wiping his eyes.

"And I will miss the five of you as well."

_He would include the horses._

Radagast pointed out the trail to the boys. "This will lead to a road when you reach the bottom of this hill. From there you may want to head north. You could head back to the Shire or Bree when the road forks, or head further west and try your luck. Pirates are abroad in the South, so do not go that way, although that is where I am bound. And do not stay here any longer than you have to."

With a final glimpse at desolate Isengard, Radagast rode south. The boys began to leave as well when Dewey pointed back at the tower. "Guys, look at the trees."

"What about them," Reese said as he looked across the valley from their vantage point.

"They're getting closer."

"He's right," Malcolm said. "You can tell by looking at the edges of the forest. Those trees are moving."

"Let's go," Reese said nervously. "We should really be going."

"Great idea," Dewey said before Malcolm could, and all three boys scrambled into the wagon. They were already on the road heading north by the time the first Ents reached the Tower.

Two nights later, the three boys huddled by the fire. Clip and Clop were set free to roam for forage. The horses had already proven they would be back and ready to go by the time the sun rose. Malcolm was preparing the meal when a shriek was heard overhead.

"Quick, dose the fire," he called out.

A harsh voice spoke out of the shadows. "It is too late for that. We have already found you. The Master will want to know what has happened."

"Where? What?" Reese stuttered. "We don't know anything."

"The smell of Isengard is still on you," the voice hissed. "You will come."

Screeching sounds came again as three pairs of reptilian claws grabbed the three boys and carried them up into the air. The dark rider who spoke to the boys turned and mounted his own beast, and followed his fellow Nazgul in their flight east.

*

Clip and Clop wandered back into camp just before dawn, only to find it empty. They looked around briefly, then spotted some clover. They did not worry until several days later when there was no longer any clover nearby. Only then did they wander off.


	7. The Rocky Road to Mordor

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE ROCKY ROAD TO MORDOR

"That was hell," Malcolm said when he finally recovered. He found himself lying on a black leather couch.

"Thank you for stating the obvious," Dewey said from the easy chair in the corner of the room.

"Shut up, Dewey. Where are we? Where's Reese?"

"We're in a big black room, and Reese is in the small black room through that door."

"What's in that room?"

"A flush toilet," Dewey answered, as the sound of running water could be heard.

Reese came out of the bathroom smiling. "You should check it out. They even have a Jacuzzi."

Malcolm shook his head in disbelief. "That doesn't make sense. Everyone else in this world uses the nearest tree. Why does this guy have indoor plumbing?"

"Wait a minute," Reese said, actually thinking for once. "Isn't this the place they told us about? Where that evil guy lives who doesn't have a body?"

"Barad Dur," Dewey answered.

"Nobody asked you, Dewey."

"That does it," Dewey yelled. "I'm leaving." He walked over to the main door. To Malcolm's surprise, he opened it and walked out. He continued muttering as he walked down the hallway.

"We're not prisoners?" Malcolm asked.

"Duhh," Reese replied. "Who would give prisoners indoor plumbing?"

"Yeah. I didn't think about that. What's going on?"

"I don't know. All I did was take a shower while they cleaned my clothes. I'm waiting for room service."

"Room service?"

"Food's here," Dewey called as he walked back into the room. Behind him, orcs walked in with chairs and a table, and lit the flambeaus in the wall sconces. A human servant followed and prepared to set out plates.

"Oh, good. I see your brother is up," the servant said. "I am to apologize for the suddenness of your journey, Malcolm, and any hardships you may have endured. Would you like to eat now or freshen up first?"

"Something light, maybe," Malcolm replied. "My stomach feels funny."

"It's the time difference. We're a few hours earlier here than where you came from. I'll set out some broth for you and a few rolls. Would you like a wardrobe sent up, or should we clean your clothes while you freshen?"

"I don't get it," Malcolm complained, "but isn't this Barad Dur, the fortress of the Dark Lord who epitomizes everything evil in the world."

"You guessed right on your first try, young man. Congratulations."

"Okay. Then why are you being nice to us."

"Oh, pardon me for living," the servant said. "Just because Sauron wants to subjugate the entire world doesn't mean he lacks common courtesy. If you were in charge, you would probably let everyone do whatever they wanted. Now why don't you take a page out of the Dark Lord's book and apologize for your rudeness."

"I'm sorry," Malcolm said in complete confusion.

"Think nothing of it," the man laughed. "Just remember. You can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar. Oh, and I'm being rude myself. My name is Mathias but just call me Matty. Everyone else does. If you need anything, and I mean anything, I will do my gosh darndest to get it for you." He looked closely at Malcolm's clothes and said, "Yes, you WILL want a new wardrobe. You're lucky. You look very good in black. I'll take care of it personally. Do you want a matching cloak?"

_Cloak?_

"Definitely." Malcolm said.

"Silver or Red for the interior lining?"

"I don't know."

"Silver. It matches your eyes."

When Matty left, closing the door behind him, Malcolm listened but did not hear it being locked.

_It makes you wonder. These people are completely evil. And they trust us._

*

"Merry! Long time, Compadre," Francis said into the phone.

"It's good to talk to you again. I understand congratulations are in order."

"Or condolences," Pippin shouted.

"Guys, I have to tell you. I have been happily married for over a week and I still can't believe it."

Pippin smirked. "My father's been married for more than fifty years and he still can't believe it either."

"Thanks," Francis laughed. "And Aragorn told me the news, that Gandalf is back."

"And it is a good thing, too, Francis. Things are getting dark here. There is great trouble coming. I have heard nothing of your brothers. I hope they will be fine."

"Aragorn told me that they have a delivery service near where you guys come from, a place called Bree."

"What do they deliver?" Merry asked.

"I guess pizza or something. I don't really know."

"You mentioned that before," Pippin chimed in. "What exactly is a pizza?"

"It's the best food in the world," Francis told them. "You take some dough and roll it flat . . ."

*

Malcolm was on the balcony with Dewey watching the volcano spew smoke and the occasional fireball, when there was a knock at the door. It opened almost immediately, and a tall thin man walked into the room.

"He looks familiar," Malcolm whispered to Reese as he came in from the balcony.

"I can almost place him," Reese whispered back, "He's from the movies . . . no . . . TV. Definitely a TV show."

"No, he does movies, too. He's the new gadget guy for James Bond."

"This must be a part time job, then," Reese said with authority. 

"I hope I'm not disturbing you young gentlemen," the man said, "but we made an effort to bring you here as quickly as possible, and I need to ask you a few things before we get you properly settled. I will be your caseworker, for the lack of a better word. I am Joncleas, and your names are?"

"I'm Malcolm, but I have a question for you, Sir, before you begin. Could you say 'I would like to by some cheese'?"

"Excuse me?"

"I would like to buy some cheese. Could you say it?"

"I don't know why," Joncleas said, "but if it will speed things along. I would like to buy some cheese."

"Well, you've come to the right place," Reese said, "This is a cheese shop."

"I don't think you said it right, Reese."

"Malcolm, don't interrupt. It's close enough."

Both boys looked up at Joncleas expectantly.

"What is it?"

"You're supposed to ask for a specific type of cheese," Malcolm explained.

"Why?"

"So we can tell you we don't have any."

"Then what is the point of having a Cheese Shop if you don't actually have any cheese."

"Exactly," Reese said with a grin.

"That was fun," Dewey said. "Now do the Ministry of Silly Walks."

Joncleas stared at the three boys as though they were all mad.

*

"Let me see if I understand," Joncleas said. "You actually come from a different world, and in this world there is a man who resembles me."

"Right," Reese explained. "And he appears in movies and on TV, you know, television."

"Are these something like that Palantir?"

"The what?"

"Seeing Stones. If you look in one you can see and talk to someone who is also looking into one."

Malcolm nodded. "Yeah, something like that, except one stone would send, and all the others would receive. That's what we call TV."

"And movies?"

"Just think really big TV for special broadcasts."

Joncleas was amazed. "And how often are these devices used?"

"All the time. There's always some kind of show on."

"That is a wonderful concept. A diversion for the masses so that they won't even realize how oppressed they are."

"It works for me," Dewey said.

"I think I am beginning to understand."

Joncleas began pacing as he thought furiously, until Dewey started imitating him by taking exaggerated steps. "It's that silly walks thing. Isn't it?"

"Dewey, stop that," Reese yelled, "It's not very funny."

"No, Reese," Malcolm corrected. "It's not very silly."

As the three boys began laughing again, Joncleas muttered under his breath. "May we get down to business? Please? I need to know what you witnessed at Isengard. You know what I mean."

"You mean when the trees attacked," Dewey asked.

"The trees?" Joncleas asked. "And what is the rest of the joke?"

"He's telling the truth," Malcolm said. "It was really weird. The entire forest began moving forward, heading right for the tower."

"And then what happened."

"We ran. We're not stupid. If that's why you brought us here then why don't you ask someone else who was there. Maybe someone who stayed and watched."

"As far as we know, no one else survived, except for Saruman who is now a prisoner in his own tower. Apparently, the three of you did the right thing."

"Was that it?" Malcolm asked. "You dragged us hundreds of miles in the claws of flying lizards to ask what happened."

"We had to be sure," Joncleas said defensively. "Besides, you were a curiosity already. Spies told us how the elves found you, then threw you out. I was looking for an excuse to bring the three of you here anyway."

"You're making that up."

_I bet you he just made that up._

"I did not make that up, young man." Joncleas began to shout. "I'll have you know that I've spent many a day trying to figure out who you are and what you are doing here. Sauron does not like unusual things to happen, and since I work for him, neither do I." In a softer tone, he added, "I think you are able to understand that."

"Are you going to torture us?" Dewey asked, suddenly afraid.

"No, If you were going to be tortured, we wouldn't have made you take a bath first. It wouldn't make sense. I can hear the head torturer complaining now. 'I can't stick him with this red hot poker. He still has dirt behind his ears.'"

"Oh, okay," Dewey said, "I'll be on the balcony watching the volcano."

"YOU would be great on television," Reese said. "I can see you doing the news."

"Thank you, I think. Could we return to the business at hand?"

"I thought we were done?" Malcolm asked.

"As far as Isengard, Yes. But we still have the matter of how you came here, and what to do with you."

"Don't you know?" Reese said snidely, "It was those stupid flying lizards."

Joncleas put his head in his hands. "NO. NO. NO. Not how you came to Barad Dur. I want to know how you came to Middle Earth."

"That's easy. We don't know."

"Oh, really," Joncleas said sarcastically. "You suddenly appeared in Mirkwood one day with no explanation."

"Uh, Yeah."

"And no one knows how?"

"Not a clue."

"Did you have anything with you? Anything unusual?"

"Unusual for us or for you?" Malcolm asked.

"Good Point. That takes care of that."

"We're done?" Reese asked. "Great. I'm going back outside to watch the volcano."

"What happens now?" Malcolm asked, once he and Joncleas were alone.

"We try to fit you in someplace. Would you like a job? You could be useful to us. And it would benefit you as well."

"I was already offered a job."

"Yes, Dewey told us about that Junior Ranger thing. I'm sure it was a lot of fun and games but I'm not talking about wandering in the wilderness. We are talking world domination, a new world order under the control of one strong man, er, entity, with a vision. And since we have not yet achieved our goal, although we are very close, you have a chance to get in while the getting is good. Perhaps you are ready now for something completely different. WILL YOU PLEASE STOP LAUGHING?"

"I'm not really the type for oppressing the masses and stuff like that." Malcolm said, still snickering.

"But that's the beauty of the system, Malcolm. You won't have to do any of that. No torturing prisoners, no wholesale slaughter of helpless villagers, none of that. That is what your staff is for. All you have to do is follow every order given to you, and what you can't or don't want to do you then pass on to them. It's a wonderful system."

"You were joking about the wholesale slaughter, Right?"

"Of course I was. That wouldn't even be in your department." He smiled in a way that said it wasn't a joke. "You do have talent. Perhaps you could work on plans to convince young people like yourself that they should follow our leader with, you know, blind obedience. What do you say, Malcolm?"

_I'll give you one guess what will happen if I say no._

"When do I start?"

"I would have said immediately, but this television idea has me thinking. Let me run the idea by the Master and see what he thinks. In the meantime, try thinking up some rumors we could spread to make people feel bad about the people in charge." He laughed as he added, "Not our people, of course. . . . I think I have a handle on this humor thing."

As he started to leave, Joncleas turned back and said, "Malcolm, feel free to look around, get a feel for things. Ask Manny for anything you need."

"I will. Thanks."

"And Malcolm, those clothes look excellent on you. You look very good in black."

_It's the cloak. I always look good with a cloak._

_*_

"I must risk this, Legolas," Aragorn told his comrade. "I must use the seeing stone. For good or ill, I will confront the Dark Lord."

"Then wear your armor fast and let him know you by the sword you bear. He will recognize the reforged blade. I will hide from sight but I will be near if you need my aid."

Aragorn cast his gaze upon the stone willing it to make contact with its counterpart in the east. The blackness of the stone vanished slowly to reveal, "Malcolm?"

"Strider?" the voice came from the stone. "You sure look different. How did you know I was here? These stones are so cool."

"I didn't," Strider admitted. "I was trying to contact . . . someone else. Where are you?"

"Oh, Barad Dur. I'm just below the throne room. Sauron's having a big meeting, and they're letting me look around for a bit." Malcolm began walking around the stone, and noticed how the background shifted. He saw Legolas approaching in response to the unusual conversation. "Hey, Legolas."

"Well met, Malcolm. You look well. I must admit that black becomes you. I must also beg the question. Why are you in Mordor?"

"These guys, the Nazgul, grabbed us after we got kicked out of Isengard. We're guests for now."

"Kicked out?" Legolas whispered.

"The youngling has a natural talent for such things," Aragorn whispered back. He looked back into the stone and asked, "Malcolm, do they trust you?"

"Yeah. Go figure. One guy even said that Reese had a positive attitude."

"That's nice," Aragorn said uncertainly. "Could you leave if you wanted to?"

"I guess, but . . . there's no place to go. It all a wasteland out there and most of the people we'd meet would consider us as their next meal. It's cool though. We have a balcony overlooking the volcano."

Aragorn looked at Malcolm in surprise. "Did you reveal any secrets to the enemy? Anything that might do us harm."

"I told them about television. That might hurt you in the long run, but I wouldn't worry about it."

"Uhm, yes, well," Aragorn stammered. "Good luck to you and your brothers."

"Wait, do you happen to know where my phone is?"

"Yes, I borrowed it from Merry. Do you want me to call someone?"

"Yeah. I've always wanted to do this. These guys say that they'll deliver anywhere, if you're willing to pay for it. Call 1- 801-555-1212."

"Paradise Pizza," the voice on the phone said, "We deliver anywhere, if you pay the fare."

"Ask for two large Pepperoni," Malcolm explained.

"They want a . . . credit card?"

"Give them my Mom's Visa," Malcolm told him, and rattled off the numbers. "It expires in June."

"It is done, Malcolm. And I gave them our current location. What happens now?"

"If they show up, let me know. And tell Sam that Dewey says Hi."

As the stone went dark, Aragorn looked at his elvin friend, who was shaking uncontrollably. "Legolas, You are laughing."

"I apologize, My Lord Aragorn. I could not help but note that you sought to contact the greatest evil that existed in this world, and you confronted Malcolm."

A short while later, Aragorn again attempted to reveal himself to Sauron. The Dark Lord was unsettled to discover that an heir to Isildur was living and that he held in his hand the reforged blade. The worst part of the encounter was not that Isildur's heir was able to control the stone, but that he seemed to be laughing at Sauron from beneath his armor.

*

"I have been asked to give you this," Eomer of Rohan said as he handed Merry the phone. "Aragorn said to thank you for the use of it."

"Thank you," the hobbit said gratefully. "This is truly a wondrous device. Even though my friends are now on different paths, there are still some friends I can talk to and find solace." He looked up at the tall man. "Aragorn has gone?"

"And the elf and dwarf have gone with him. Your old friends have left you, Halfling, but you have new friends who are here. Now come, my uncle the King wishes your company."

Merry and Eomer walked to where Theoden was resting, when a sudden disturbance was heard. Two armed horsemen escorted a skinny, pimply-faced teenager before the king. He was wearing jeans, sneakers and a red shirt with gold stars and the logo, Paradise. And he was carrying a red and gold square heat pouch made out of plastic.

"I'm looking for Mr. Aragorn. He ordered two pepperoni?"

Merry jumped up suddenly and said, "Yes, I can take that for him."

"Sign here, please. And fill in that box marked gratuity."

"What do I fill it with?"

"Oh, I can take care of that for you, if you want."

"Thank you," the hobbit said as he took the two boxes.

"No, Thank you, Sir," the teenager said as he left.

"My lord," Merry said as he opened the first box, "This is a rare treat, Pizza."

"And it is still hot," Theoden said as he took a slice.

*

"I told you it wasn't him," Reese said, "Everybody knows the Ministry of Silly Walks."

"I still thought he might be when he said it wasn't very funny," Dewey complained. "He didn't have to get mad at us like that."

"Tell me about it," Malcolm added.

"There goes another one," Dewey shouted as the volcano spit out a fireball. The boys watched from the balcony as the fiery mass crashed into the barren plain, leaving a molten red splotch that gradually faded. "That was really cool. I like this place."

"Yeah, it is neat," Malcolm admitted. "I've been checking things out. Matty even offered to take me on a tour of the factory. I get to see them take a lump of ore and turn it into a sword or a shield."

"Sounds like a school tour to me," Reese said. "He has you doing all school stuff."

"No he doesn't. We're doing all sorts of different stuff together. He showing me how to read the various elvin languages. He gave me a few history books. He's . . . He tricked me. I've been going to school and I didn't even know it."

_Now I'll never enjoy that factory tour_.

"Don't worry about it," Dewey said. "You like school anyway."

"Yeah. Well it's not all school work, anyway. He talks to me about things. About how I feel about what happened. I've told him all about what's happened to us and he's been very understanding."

"Malcolm," Reese hissed, "Even I'm not that stupid. You told everything to the servant of the Dark Lord. No wonder he's being so nice."

_Oops?_

"I didn't realize it. I mean you've seen Matty, the way he talks. I thought he was harmless."

"Doesn't matter?" Dewey said.

"And why not?" Reese and Malcolm demanded.

"You don't know anything, Malcolm. You don't even know what this trouble is all about."

"It's about conquering the world, Dewey. What's so hard about that?"

"Malcolm, Reese, it's lecture time," Dewey said, and stood up to face them, much alike a lecturer would. "In this world Sauron created the ring of ultimate power. We're talking lots and lots of power, but it doesn't give ultimate intelligence. So when he decided to wear it openly into battle, somebody was smart enough to cut his fingers off. That is why he doesn't have a decent body. The good guys have the ring and they're hiding it, that's why we are having a war. And that's why Matty keeps asking you questions, Malcolm. He knows that you're involved somehow and he knows that you don't realize it."

"But I'm not involved."

"If we had the phone we could talk to Francis about it?" Reese offered

Malcolm stared at Dewey and Reese in disbelief. He never thought to mention the phone to Matty. He always glossed over that part. Malcolm smiled as he understood what had been going on. Matty, and his bosses, believed that the thing he wasn't talking about was this ring they were looking for, and not the phone.

"They think I had the ring."

"We have a winner," Dewey called out.

"They're actually looking for the phone, and they don't realize it," Malcolm laughed.

"There is one problem," Dewey pointed out. "I do know where the ring is?"

"Where?"

"Out there," Dewey said. "Near the volcano."

"How do you know that?"

"Do you see this neat telescope Matty got me? It's like those fireballs are right in front of you. Look through it."

"Okay, I see those guys. Who are they?"

"My friend Sam and his boss," whispered Dewey. "They're going to destroy the ring. We have to get out of here."

"Wait a minute, Dewey. How do you know all of this?"

"My friend, Sam," He said, pointing at the volcano. "He told me all about it back in Rivendell. He was worried about his boss, and needed someone to talk to. It was fine with me when we were riding around in the wagon. We were away from almost everything. I wasn't even worried about Saruman too much because we had Radagast with us. But we're here, and when that ring is destroyed, I bet this place goes. And if we're still here, we go with it."

"Hello, boys," Matty said, as he strolled into the room. "Are you ready for the tour, Malcolm?"

"Actually, I was talking to Reese and Dewey about something we all would like. Can we visit the volcano? You know. Get a close up look."

"It's too late in the day for that," Matty said.

_Like you could tell in this place._

"How about first thing tomorrow?" Dewey suggested. "We can leave right after breakfast."

"Marvelous. We can even pack a picnic lunch. It will be a wonderful outing, and very educational. Oopsy, I said the E word."

"It's okay, Matty," Malcolm told him, "I know what you've been doing. And I have been enjoying it."

"You are too kind, Malcolm. Come on then. We still have the factory tour." As Matty ushered Malcolm out of the room, he asked, "You didn't know the entire time, did you?"

*

"Now for it! Now for the last gasp!" said Sam as he struggled to his feet. He bent over Frodo, rousing him gently. Frodo groaned; but with a great effort of will he staggered up; and then he fell to his knees again. He raised his eyes with difficulty to the dark slopes of Mount Doom towering above him, and then pitifully he began to crawl forward on his hands.


	8. Holiday at Mount Doom

CHAPTER EIGHT: HOLIDAY AT MOUNT DOOM

"And where do you think you're going?" Joncleas demanded when he saw the three boys being escorted to the main gate.

"It's wonderful, Sir," Matty gushed. "I'm taking the boys on a tour of Mount Doom. We're going to visit all of the historical sights."

_The way he's talking about it, I bet they even have a souvenir stand._

"That is good news," Joncleas said in response. "We've had a change of plans. We don't have any real use for you here, but you boys are too valuable to simply, how shall I say it, let go."

"What a minute," Malcolm said angrily. "Why are we being kicked out? I mean, I even gave you that idea to increase sword productivity by 20 percent."

"You are not being kicked out. You are being moved to a more appropriate location. If you were being kicked out we wouldn't tell you. We'd simply toss you out the window. And as to your little design, it would increase production but it would also reduce quality by the same percentage. What use is it having more swords if they aren't any good?"

"When will they be leaving?" Matty asked.

"Tonight," Joncleas told him, "we have supplies going out to Cirith Ugol."

"Oh, good. We still have time for out little tour. Come along boys."

"Mister Joncleas?" Dewey asked.

"What is it now?"

"Would you like to buy an argument?"

"Buy an argument? What a stupid concept."

*

"Where's the snack bar?" Malcolm asked.

"You don't have to be funny. I warned you this would be educational," Matty told him.

"Look," Reese complained, "All we did was walk down this road . . ."

"The carriage took us most of the way," Matty replied.

"And left us at the bottom of the hill," Malcolm pointed out.

" . . . while you told us that Sauron walked down this road," Reese continued. "That's not very educational."

"Reese is right," Malcolm said. "If you want it to be educational, you should talk about thermal vents and the history of earthquakes in the area. Now we're walking through this stupid hot cavern to look at some hot lava. THAT is really interesting."

"I'm interested."

"Shut up, Dewey. Matty, I know you mean well, but we don't need a lecture about how somebody walked down a road."

"I tried with you boys but it doesn't do any good," Matty said in an offended tone. "OH, now you've done it. We've taken the wrong cavern. This one comes out below where the Master forged the one ring. This is the cavern they use for people who only make the trip one way"

"Sorry," Malcolm said. "Why don't we just head back?"

"Can't I see the lava first?" Dewey whined. "We'll get a much closer view from down here."

"Fine, Fine," Matty said. "You can get as close as you want to, but if you fall in don't expect me to come and save you."

  


"Great," Dewey said as he ran down the passage. "Guys, this is so cool!"

"This is cool," Malcolm said. "Thanks for bringing us."

"Yeah," Reese added, "this is kind of neat."

_This guy is so weird. Now he'll forget that we ever yelled at him._

"Quiet," Matty said. "There's someone above us. They're on the platform."

"It sounds like Sam a little bit," Dewey whispered, trying to look up.

Someone shouted, and then the boys could hear fighting above them. Shortly after it began, someone else shouted, "My precious," followed by a scream as they fell into the fiery pit below. Instinctively, Dewey reached out to grab him, as Reese grabbed Dewey. The younger boy pulled his hand back and his eyes lit up in amazement as he opened his hand.

"I have it," Dewey chortled. "I have the ring of ultimate power." Then he added menacingly to his brothers, "now you have to do whatever I say, whenever I say, or else."

"Or else what?" Reese demanded as he grabbed the ring from Dewey and flung it into the volcano. He added snidely, "because you don't have the ring anymore, you little dirtbag."

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" Matty screamed, his sense of fear and anger rising with each line he spoke. "You've destroyed the One Ring. You've overthrown the Dark Lord. Worst of all, you've cost me my JOB."

"Matty, I don't think you should worry about your job right now."

"That's easy for you to say, Malcolm. True, he was the Dark Lord and there wasn't much of a future, but at least he understood the importance of appearance. He was the only outlet I could find for my area of expertise. Take yourself. How many people have complimented you on the way you're dressed?"

"A lot of people but . . ."

"You see, Malcolm."

"Yeah, but this place is falling to pieces."

"Run!!!" Matty said as he fled out of the cavern, the three brothers right behind him.

"Stop," Matty shouted as he came across a river of magma in front of him.

"What do we do now?" Malcolm asked, and Dewey let out a high screeching whistle.

"Look, there's some big birds," Reese said. As one of the giant eagles turned, he waved his arms calling out, "we're over here."

"Good going, Reese," Malcolm said, "It saw you."

"Yeah, good going Reese," Dewey muttered sarcastically.

The eagle flew closer and landed in the only clear spot remaining. "Oh goody," he said tonelessly. "My nest mates each get a hobbit, and I get to carry the mother lode. Is one of you Malcolm?"

"That's me."

"Right. Gandalf asked me to keep an eye out for you, just in case. I'll fly you and your brothers out of here, but please hurry. Which two are you brothers?"

Malcolm looked at Matty as the man's face paled.

_I hate when this happens._

"I have three brothers, Sir. That's Reese and Dewey, and this is Francis. Didn't Gandalf mention him?"

"Yes," the eagle said in an annoyed tone, "but he wasn't supposed to be here."

"It wasn't his choice, or ours," Malcolm said quickly.

"Very well," the eagle said. He had Malcolm and Dewey climb on his back and he grabbed Reese and Matty with his claws as he flew away.

"Why can't I be grabbed by the claws?" Dewey asked. "That was the fun part about coming out here."

"I didn't think it was fun," Malcolm said. "I was screaming the entire time."

"Yeah," Dewey said fondly. "That was fun, too."

*

"You have strange friends," Piama said as she welcomed her husband home.

"What happened to Hello, I love you?" Francis asked.

"It's just that Sam called today while you were out."

"He's safe? That's great. He's the one that gave me all those recipes."

"Then I'm glad I was nice to him."

"I'll call him back right away," Francis said. "Where's the phone?"

"In the bedroom." Piama said with a gleam in her eye.

"Well, maybe I'll call him back tomorrow."

*

"I'm tired," The eagle said as it neared Minas Tirith. Setting them down on the plain outside the city he said, "You can walk the rest of the way. I can't give my wings another flap."

"Thank you," Dewey called out as they walked toward the gates.

"Move along, move along," a skinny ugly man said as the three boys and Matty entered through what remained of the city gate. "Refuge stations are near the second gate."

"Excuse me," Malcolm asked, "We were dropped off outside by a giant eagle."

"Just be happy he wasn't still flying when he dropped you."

"Hey scrappy," one of the passing guards called out in jest, "Your mother was a drawf."

Scrappy shouted back, "Yeah, but at least I know what my father was." The boys stared as both men laughed. "Sorry, that was my brother in law. I married his sister last week. Anyway, move along, don't hold up traffic."

"You look familiar," Dewey said. "Aren't you . . "

"Dewey!" Scrappy shouted. "You gave me great advice. I had to fake a few things but I'm making it big. I won the contract to rebuild the outer wall. They loved my plans. And it's all thanks to you."

_No Way? This can't be the orc that Dewey talked into quitting_.

"Quitting that loser place is the best thing I ever did."

"That's great," Dewey said. "And you're married."

"She's uglier than sin, but hey, I'm no spring chicken either. But she can cook."

"I hate to interrupt," Malcolm said, "but where do we go?"

Scrappy raised his hand and signaled a nearby officer of the guard. "These are old friends of mine who arrived on one of the eagles. They need an escort."

"I will take care of it, Damon Scrapper," the captain said and called his guard which surrounded the three boys and Matty. "His Majesty," he told them, "insists on all who arrive in such a many to be escorted to his presence at once."

Malcolm looked at Matty's worried features and whispered, "don't worry. We can fake it."

*

"Strider!" Malcolm called out as he recognized his friend. Then he remembered his surroundings and added, "Strider?"

"Well met, Malcolm," Aragorn said as the boy and his family were escorted into his private chamber. "We do have one problem, however."

"I just got here. You can't be throwing me out already."

"Not you, Malcolm. It seems you came back with an extra brother."

"I can explain, Strider. It's actually pretty funny."

"Malcolm, Merry had me talk to Francis on your phone no more than an hour ago. One of these three is not your brother."

"Oh well, that would be me," Matty said. "Thank you for trying, dear boy."

The Lady Arwen stepped forward. "This is the servant of the Dark Lord that you saved? I sense no evil about him. How can that be?"

"Really, I can explain," Malcolm said quickly. "Matty isn't really an evildoer or anything like that. He's a . . . decorator. He dresses things up to make them look good. He's the one who picked out these clothes I'm wearing."

"And you look wonderful in them," Arwen said. "Black is definitely your color."

"Thanks, but that's the kind of stuff Matty does. Show him evil, and he'll make sure it's at least dressed properly. Tell them, Matty."

_I don't care what happens. This is going to be a fun conversation to watch._

Aragorn looked amused. "Yes, tell us why we should spare a servant of Sauron."

Matty gave an offended look. "Not if you take that tone. It's obvious from what I've heard that you have no fashion sense at all. Look at those robes. They're all gold. That's fine if you're a great conqueror. Go ahead and show your power."

"I have defeated several of Sauron's armies." Aragorn said smugly.

"Who cares? They're not around to see you. All the people who are here to see you are the ones on your side. They don't want power. They want glory." Aragorn barked a short laugh, and Matty continued his rant. "Whether you like it or not, you're not the king, you're the hero of justice, of everything good, and goodness screams WHITE, WHITE, WHITE. Something in ivory should be appropriate."

"I have to agree," Arwen said as she took Matty's hand. "I was telling my beloved exactly the same thing before you arrived." She turned to Aragorn. "My lord, I trust this man as much as I trust you. Spare him on my account."

"I can deny you nothing, My Love," Aragorn said with resignation, "and I will change my clothes."

As they walked off, Arwen was telling Matty, "I would love to hear your ideas on the throne room. Gondor formerly had a Steward, but now . . ."

"Strider?" Malcolm asked. "What's going on?"

"You don't know?" Aragorn said, as he barked another short laugh. "Perhaps I should properly introduce myself. I am Aragorn Elessar, High King of Gondor and Arnor, a direct descendent of the line of Isildur."

"Does that mean that Malcolm is a junior king?" Dewey asked. "After all, when you were a ranger, you made him a junior ranger."

"Shut up, Dewey," Malcolm said, "His Majesty doesn't want to hear your stupid questions."

"Malcolm," Aragorn said calmly. "I would love to hear all of your brother's stupid question, and listen to the three of you constantly bicker, but I haven't the time. And since the matter of your extra brother has been resolved, I am free to dispense justice as far as you are concerned."

"Only him, right," Reese said. "I was just an innocent bystander."

_I know you can't see it, but there's about fifty people in this room, and they're all rolling their eyes._

"In that case, Reese, I will start with you. You are hereby ordered to attend my northern estate until the fullness of your years, to be trained in whatever occupation you see fit. You are also to be given the means to insure your success."

"Am I being kicked out of here?"

"No," Aragorn said with a smile. "You are being given a home, and schooling, and enough wealth to live on for the rest of your life, even if you choose to do nothing."

_Reese looks weird._

"Can I ask for something else instead?"

"And that is?"

"Look, I know I've always been a jerk. I know I don't get along with anybody, not even my brothers. And I'm not that smart. But for a while, I wasn't a jerk, and I got along and all that. Could I just get a wagon and a couple of horses?"

Malcolm wiped a tear out of his eye. "Reese, that was touching. I never realized how much that meant to you. Aragorn, we just want a wagon and a couple of horses."

"I'll take the house and the money," Dewey said. "You guys can load your own stupid wagon."

"Let's discuss this tomorrow," Aragorn said diplomatically.

*

"You were right, Francis," Merry said. "The Hawaiian pizza was excellent. I've never had pineapple before."

"Personally I'm surprised. I always thought that delivery stuff was an advertising gimmick. They really do deliver anywhere."

"I'm still partial to the mushroom pizza," Pippin said, standing on the other side of the phone from Merry.

Merry laughed, "I can tell you stories about Pippin. Between him and Frodo, they'd eat every mushroom in the Shire."

"And complain when they were gone," Pippin added. "Wait, we have a guest coming. Francis, it's your brother."

The two hobbits handed the phone to a surprised Malcolm. "Francis?"

"Malcolm, how are you," Francis said sincerely. "I was worried about you. Have you heard from Mom and Dad?"

"Of course not, Francis, and I'm fine. What's this about Mom and Dad? Are they missing too?"

"I risked calling work," Francis admitted, "I just wanted to let them know I got married."

"Married? That's great. Congratulations."

"Thanks guy, but I need to tell you this. Mom has been missing from work for more than six months. Nobody knows anything."

"What about Dad?"

"That's the weird part. Every time I call they say he's away from his desk. I don't think anybody noticed."

"I'll ask Aragorn to look into it."

"That guy is so cool," Francis admitted. "I think it's great that he ended up being a king."

"Um, yeah, that is . . ." Malcolm hesitated. "Wait, did you hear that?"

"Somebody's on the extension. Somebody's in our house. Who are you?"

"It's only me."

"Craig?" Malcolm yelled. "What are you doing in our house? Is anybody else there?"

"Look, little guy, I don't care about what you did to my house, or my cat, or even to me personally, but your mother is one of the best people I've ever worked with, and after six months, I'm determined to find out why she left without saying anything."

Malcolm nodded. "And why are you in the house?"

"My car had a flat and I was in the neighborhood. I thought I could get a favor repaid. I still have several of them," he added defensively.

"Whatever, Craig. Is anybody else there?"

"No one, and don't worry, Malcolm. There isn't any food or anything lying around. I checked."

"Great, Craig, but I need to ask you a favor. Could you check out the house and see if everything is okay?"

"I, uh, already did, but I'll check again. What am I looking for?"

"It's kind of weird, but I vanished out of my bedroom. Could you tell me if it looks normal? Craig?"

"I'm still here. I used the conference call feature so I can use my own cell phone. You don't mind paying for that, do you?"

"Just start looking," Francis fumed. "This is the first chance either of us have had to talk with anybody."

"Except Stevie," Malcolm added.

"Okay, hold your horses," Craig told them. "I'm in your bedroom. What am I looking for?"

"Anything," Malcolm said. "We were all in bed when it happened."

"What happened?"

"I don't know, Craig. IT. Just plain it."

"Fine, keep your secrets. I don't care about them anyway. Let's see, messy desk, messy floor, messy closet, messy beds, looks perfectly normal to me. Oh, look at this. A perfectly good book messily shoved between the headboard and the mattress."

_Book?_

Craig reached down and pulled the book out from where it was wedged. "Here it is. The Lord of the Rings. Hey, I remember reading this when I was a kid. It was . . . WHAT?"

Craig dropped his phone and the book as three booming noises were heard.

_Air displacement. I'll explain later._

"How did you do that?" Craig asked in surprise as three boys suddenly appeared in the bedroom. "You're back. Malcolm, you look good. Black is definitely your color."

_It's the cloak._

*

"You look ravishing," Hal said romantically, his eyes lit with an internal fire.

"Again?" Lois laughed. "You are never satisfied."

"I'm always satisfied. You know that."

The loving couple was rudely jolted out of their revery by their sudden appearance in their own bedroom.

"Well, goodbye Lothlorien," Hal said wistfully.

"Galadriel told us our vacation would be ending soon."

"It can't be helped. Now, where were we? You look ravishing."

Lois laughed, then frowned, "I hear the boys."

"Fifteen minutes. After all this time it can't hurt."

"Make ir twenty," Lois whispered.

*

"That's it," Reese said accusingly. "That's all it was?"

"Yeah," Malcolm said, "that's all it was. This slot built into the headboard is designed to hold a book. I had the Krelboynes do a chemical analysis on the wood, but they say it doesn't match any known tree. That means it's not pine or balsa wood."

"Then what was it doing at a yard sale."

"It wasn't a yard sale. It was a junk yard. I guess the last owner was smart enough to throw it away."

"That's stupid," Reese said, "There are so many good books we could put in there."

"Name one," Malcolm demanded.

"How about 'Planetary Escape.' That would be cool. Escaping in a spaceship just before the Earth crashes into the Sun."

"What if we're not on the spaceship? Reese, the bed puts us into the world of the book. It doesn't put us into the story."

Reese nodded sadly.

"I could pick a good book," Dewey said.

"Shut up, Dewey. We still owe you for the Ring of Power bit that you pulled."

"BOYS," Lois screamed as he burst into the room holding the credit card bill. "Who ordered Five Thousand Dollars worth of Pizza?"

*

"On behalf of myself and my former comrades of the Third Company of the Citadel, we thank you, Peregrine Took, for this wonderful meal."

Pippin stood on the table next to a heap of empty pizza boxes, and bowed. "Beregond, my friend, and to the rest of you as well, I am the one to thank you, although I have only been part of your company for a short time. Chance permitted me to supply this feast, and I was more than happy to do so. Is there any left?"


	9. Epilogue: The Last Chapter

EPILOGUE: THE LAST CHAPTER

Malcolm rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he looked around the strange room. Dewey was asleep next to him, and Reese was sleeping in the other double bed. The room appeared to be a standard hotel room, with some slight differences.

"Reese, you jerk. Wake up."

"What is it?" Reese said as he pulled the pillow over his head.

"You put a book in that slot, you moron."

"No, I didn't," Reese said as he pulled the pillow off and looked around. "What happened to you? You're smaller?"

"What?" Malcolm said, then stared at Reese. He got out of bed and walked to the mirror. "What happened? We're . . . Younger. Reese, I have that cut you gave me."

Reese looked at Malcolm's leg. "I remember that and I didn't give it to you. You fell on that glass."

"Only because you pushed me. Do you know what this means? I'm eleven."

_Oh God. I'm going to have to go through puberty again._

"How did this happen?" Reese asked, and both boys stared at a now wide awake Dewey. "I just realized. He's only seven. I'm going to have so much fun beating him up."

"Hold it Reese. Dewey, what book did you use, and why are we all younger?"

"That wasn't supposed to happen. And it's a good book," Dewey said defensively, "where everybody has fun and nobody gets hurt."

"Wrong, Dewey," Reese said happily. "At least one person is going to get hurt."

As Reese grabbed Dewey, the door opened, and Lois walked in. "Good, you're up. Hurry up and get dressed for breakfast. And Reese, if you don't let go of Dewey right now, you'll spend the entire trip standing in the corner. We'll meet you downstairs. MOVE IT."

"Clothes?" Reese said, as the door closed.

"Suitcase," Malcolm pointed out.

"London," Dewey said gleefully as he looked out the window.

The boys dressed quickly and made their way to the hotel dining room. Breakfast was laid out as a buffet, for everyone to pick and choose, and Malcolm asked, "What can we have?"

"What do you mean?" Lois asked. "It's all free. Are you feeling okay?"

"Uh, yeah," Malcolm said, recovering quickly. "I thought you might want to punish us for threatening Dewey."

"I should but you didn't hit him yet. Now, hurry up and eat before it's all gone."

As the boys ran off, Hal looked up from his plate, and said, "you haven't punished them for anything the entire trip."

"It's vacation," Lois said, "I've got a list. I'll punish them when they get home."

*

"Free food and all you can eat," Reese said. "That was great. Where's Dewey? We're supposed to watch him."

"He ran off as soon as he could."

"Good. Now we don't have to try and lose him. There's the train station. Do you want to check it out?"

"Why, " Malcolm said eagerly. "We've only got a couple of hours and there's a lot of other stuff to check out."

"Because that train doesn't leave until 11:30 and this train leaves at 11:00," Reese said, holding up two train tickets.

"Where did you get those?"

"I found them," Reese said smugly. When Malcolm gave him a look, he said, "No, I really found them. This is my idea. We find the train and sell the tickets back to the people who lost them."

"What if they don't show up? Did you ever think of that?"

"Why wouldn't they show up?"

"How about because they lost their tickets?"

"I'm going to check it out anyway," Reese said as he crossed the street and entered the station. Malcolm shook his head and followed.

"Fine, at least tell me what track we're looking for."

"We're not looking for a track. We're looking for a platform."

Malcolm shook his head. "What platform are we looking for? Let me see one of those tickets." He looked at the ticket and threw it on the ground.

"What are you doing?" Reese yelled back, as he picked up the ticket

"It's obviously fake, Reese. Just throw it away." Malcolm looked at his older brother in disgust.

"No," Reese insisted, "These are real tickets. All we have to do is find the right platform."

Malcolm stopped his brother. "Reese, just look around you. There's Platform Nine. There's Platform Ten. There isn't enough room for a Platform Nine and 3/4."


End file.
